


star

by castlestr33t



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Drinking, F/M, Infidelity, Louis in Lingerie, M/M, an absolute self indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlestr33t/pseuds/castlestr33t
Summary: // just a self indulgent cheating fic x





	star

“What the fuck do you mean you ‘can’t make it’?!” Louis hisses into the phone, rubbing his temples with his index and middle finger on his free hand whilst his other hand clutches his iPhone to his ear. “You fucking booked this _months_  ago, James! /You/! Not me - you. I could be sleeping right now, or hanging out at the spa with Zayn or -”

Louis is interrupted swiftly by his husband’s quick exhale and the man instantly clutches the end of the tablecloth with his fingertips to stop himself from banging his fist on the table.

“Darling,” James soothes quickly, his voice mundane and slow as if this conversation is boring him. “I’m _s_ _orry_ , okay? But it’s an important client, and hey, it’s not as if it’s your money that’s being wasted right now, right?”

Louis is speechless, his head bowed with embarrassment and he makes a soft sound under his breath. The man can feel pitying looks being sent his way and he blushes as a waitress obviously avoids his table to take a U-turn back to the kitchen when she catches sight of his ‘situation’. Fuck.

He nods, before quickly rushing out a tired, “I know. I’m sorry. Work comes first...” he pauses to hear the sound of a pen scratching and papers shuffling on a wooden surface on the other side of the line. “I’ll see if Zayn wants to hang out tonight, then,” he suggests lightly.

“That’s the spirit, baby!” James grins through the phone and Louis holds back a snort and rolls his eyes instead, all the fight draining out of him with a shaky exhale. His husband’s tone rubs him the wrong way because it’s as if James is relieved to not have to bother with him for an evening. It hurts. But he’s used to it, unfortunately.

“Okay, Lou, see you at home,” James says quickly as if he’s in a rush and hangs up before Louis has a chance to squeeze in a quiet ‘I love you’.

Louis presses his lips together and hisses out an annoyed “bastard” quietly under his breath, wishing for the room to stop looking at him with any more stupidly concerned looks. Yes, he got stood up and yes, he can fucking handle it. 

He stands up quickly and leaves the table, stopping a waitress on his way out to the front of the hotel. The waitress is tall and blonde, bright teeth almost blinding him and her fingernails sharpened to talons but her blue eyes are soft and genuine so Louis doesn’t feel awkward asking her a question. Like one of those popular girls at school that like to help out at charities on the weekends. Her name tag reads, ‘Christine’. Nice name, Louis notes.

“Sorry, hi. Can you tell me where the nearest bar is?” he stammers out, running a hand through his hair - a nervous habit of his that he had picked up from Zayn over the years. James always grabs Louis’ hand to stop him from doing it when they’re out in public, where people can recognise his high profile husband.

Christine smiles widely at him and nods quickly, eager to please. “Of course, Sir! If you just go down to floor two via the elevator and then turn to your left, our evening bar should already be open for serving. Can I help you with anything else?”

Louis grins in relief and nods, quickly running over the directions in his head. “Okay, thank you so much!” he breathes before he quickly heads out of the doorway into the hotel floor. He spots the elevator down the hallway and rushes into it just as the doors close. The man manages to squeeze into the elevator box but at the same time, he ends up colliding into a broad chest. He huffs out a breath, rushing out an apology before he even sets eyes on the man he had bumped into.

“Woah!” the other man laughs, large hands coming to grip Louis’ hips to steady him. “Be careful, love.” His voice is slow and smooth like velvet and Louis should already know that he’s so fucked.

Louis huffs out a breath, rushing out an apology before he even sets eyes on the man he had bumped into. And, fuck, Louis is so unbelievably fucked. The man in front of him is hot - really fucking hot. And Louis is married. Louis is a married man. But the stranger blocking his view of the buttons has tattoos peeking out of his white dress shirt and a blazer tugged over his broad shoulders and dress slacks that hug his thighs and emphasise how long his legs are. Louis is married. The man towers over Louis, but his smile is soft and genuine like the gentle giant he seems to be. His lips are pouty and pink, his emerald eyes bright with amusement set with a nice pair of dimples set in his cheeks. Louis is _married_.

“Hi,” Louis squeaks out before he clears his throat, glancing behind him to watch the elevator doors close.

“Hi,” the stranger says with a smirk in his voice. He drops his hands from Louis’ hips and Louis should feel relieved but he doesn’t - he feels the opposite. “What floor are you going to?” he asks.

“Two... I think,” Louis chuckles nervously. His company smiles and presses the silver button on the wall.

“Me too!” he grins and offers his hand to Louis and after a second too long of fluster, Louis quickly takes the man’s hand and shakes it slowly. Basic etiquette, Tomlinson, c’mon. The other man’s hand totally engulfs Louis’ and Louis has to physically shake the unknown pleasurable feeling off his skin.

“I’m Harry Styles,” the man - Harry - supplies with a quirk of a perfect eyebrow and Louis snaps back into reality as he drops his hand, holding it behind his back. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

Harry’s smile is too bright to be considered truly genuine but Louis senses something good about him, something pure. Maybe it’s the softness around the edge of his eyes or maybe it’s the way he can’t keep his eyes off Louis with curiosity and eagerness for.... something. But Louis trusts him.

Thing is, he shouldn’t, he realises just as he’s introducing himself. Harry Styles, Harry Styles, Harry Styles, he /knows/ that name, but where? He knows...

“Louis Ni-” he begins before flashbacks of numerous late dinners with James complaining about his rival competitor in the stakes for a promotion at work and the words ‘Harry Styles’ seal themselves to the back of his eyelids. Suddenly, Louis is blurting out, “Tomlinson” and blushing roughly with a soft cough to disguise his inner turmoil. “Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson.”

It’s not technically a _lie_. He was Tomlinson, a million moons ago.

Harry raises both eyebrows but nods, a small smile playing on his lips that are too pink to belong to a natural human being as the elevator makes a ‘ding’ and the doors open again.

“This is our stop,” Harry smiles and guides Louis out of the elevator. The floor they step out onto is red carpet and adorned with swirling patterns on the walls, the only people milling about dressed in cocktail dresses and cruel smiles.

Louis doesn’t realise he’s stopped in his spot until Harry squeezes his hip and Louis whips his head to look at Harry with a nervous smile.

“So, assuming you’re going to the bar-” Harry begins and Louis cuts him off with a frown, turning towards Harry’s body.

“And how do you know I’m going to the bar?” He asks stubbornly.

“Considering the only worthy things on this floor are the bar or the gym, and guessing by your designer suit and fancy hair, I’m just /guessing/ you’re not going to the gym?” Harry smirks and Louis makes an indignant sound, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You _never_  know,” he pouts and Harry laughs boldly.

“Have a drink with me,” Harry bargains.

Raking his eyes over Harry’s body and face, Louis contemplates what having a drink would entail. Unconsciously, his right hand drifts to his left hand in front of him, his thumb rubbing over his wedding band as his eyes drop to the ground. It would only be a drink. Just a drink between two new friends - if anyone could even call Harry and Louis friends at this point - nothing weird, nothing naughty. Totally platonic. James doesn’t have to know; fuck, if he did, Louis would be fucked. Harry is his husband’s /rival/ - not that Harry knows that, but still...

Harry interrupts Louis’ train of thought by lifting Louis’ chin with his index finger to make their eyes meet. Louis’ breath huffs out in a hot blast into the air because, shit, they’re close now.

“One drink,” Harry says slowly and his eyes flick down to Louis’ wedding band before meeting Louis’ vulnerable gaze again. “No one has to know, I promise.”

Louis muses for a second longer, his bottom lip pushed out before he nods. Harry grins and tugs on Louis’ hand to drag him down the hall towards the bar but the smaller man stops Harry at the doorway and pushes a finger into Harry’s chest with a serious expression.

“ _One_  drink, Styles. I mean it,” he says slowly as if talking to a toddler and judging by the shit eating grin on Harry’s face, he might as well be.

“Yes, dear,” he teases and pulls Louis to the bar as he signals for the barman to bring them their first round of drinks.

-

Hours later, Louis is drunk and giggling into Harry’s shoulder. They’ve both rid each other of their suit jackets which now lounge over the same spare bar stool to Harry’s left and Louis’ tie is loose.

Over the course of the evening, Louis has learned that Harry is one of two children, he lives in the opposite side of London from the hotel and he only came in this direction because his mother told him that he needed a night away from work, that Harry prefers to sleep in double beds than singles because it means he has more room to spread out his ‘giraffe limbs’ and that he hates wearing shirts that cover up his swallow tattoos.

They both avoided talking about relationships and work, for which Louis was thankful but it certainly didn’t stop Harry from whining about wanting to know the exact time to the second. When Louis refused with an innocent look on his face, Harry had sighed dramatically and moved on to show Louis a picture on his phone of his sister, Gemma, after their third drink, making Louis whine at how beautiful she is whilst he tugged at the hem of his shirt with a pout to hide his tummy. Harry had rolled his eyes and pressed a gentle smile to Louis’ knuckles.

“You’re _gorgeous_ , you idiot,” he had laughed before moving on to talk about their favourite flavours of ice cream.

When Louis is scrolling through his phone from the demands of Harry, with the green eyed man hiccuping giggles over his shoulder, Louis takes notes of the time at the top of his screen and gasps aloud.  2:14am, his phone reads. Louis curses loudly, shaking out his fringe which had lost its momentum as a quiff and had returned to its natural wave across Louis’ forehead.

“It’s late,” he mumbles dumbly and Harry nods, making a soft sound against the skin of Louis’ neck where his lips lay. Harry’s chin is hooked over Louis’ shoulder, his breath hitting the skin of Louis’ neck and Louis has never felt more at home.

“Too late for cabs, right?” he asks himself. “Right. Shit.”

Harry giggles and Louis frowns, turning to see what is so bloody funny when he catches Harry’s eyes and he raises an eyebrow. “Wh-at?” he whines, dragging out the ending syllables when Harry makes no immediate elaboration.

“I have a room,” Harry says and Louis’ eyes light up, his lips slipping into a wide grin.

“Really?” He gasps, clapping his hands together. “Oh, Harry! I can stay in your room with you and we can have a cool sleepover and eat pizza and watch Pretty in Pink and drink /more/ alcohol and _laugh_!” Louis pauses, his eyebrows dipping into a frown. “You have a room in this hotel, right?”

Harry had been sending the charges for their tab to ‘Room 909” so it would make feasible sense for Harry to have rented a room out in the hotel. Otherwise, Harry is a very _very_ bad man.

Harry smirks and nods, grabbing Louis’ suit jacket and slipping it over Louis’ shoulders. Louis preens and smiles widely up at Harry, blinking up at him from under his eyelashes.

“I like you, Styles,” Louis says pointedly as they get up and leave the bar behind them. Harry hums quietly, oddly calm for the amount of alcohol that Louis _knows_  he’s had over the past few hours.

“I like _you_ , Tomlinson,” Harry returns. 

Louis sighs sadly, resting his temple on Harry’s shoulder as they walk slowly through the hallway. “I miss being Tomlinson,” he whines before shaking his head and grabs Harry’s hand, missing Harry’s frown at his statement - why is Harry frowning? He’s too pretty to frown - to tug him further down the hall.

“Let’s take the stairs!” Louis says in a rush of syllables and bright laughter. Harry grins as he nods eagerly like a small child and takes Louis’ hand quickly as if Louis will deny him the opportunity if he makes his move any slower.

Both men giggle into each other’s shoulders, awkwardness gone, and they both dash down the expensively carpeted hallway towards the stairs, pushing through the wooden double doors that lead them to their ticket to Harry’s room. Louis can still feel the shocked and scandalised expressions of a group of older pinned to his back but he doesn’t care because Harry is warm and close to his side with a stupidly endearing grin on his face.

They’re close as they catch their breath, knees knocking together as they lean against a wall to the right of the doors they just burst through. In the stairwell, there’s a lack of classical music that has been constantly present throughout the whole of the hotel where everyone else is rich enough to occupy the hallways can hear. It is silent here except for Harry and Louis’ breathing and it feels surreal.

Louis was meant to be having a boring dinner with his husband tonight. The mere thought makes him giggle drunkenly again and turn his head to rest his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. Once he’s regained his composure and has quietened down, he lifts his chin to catch Harry gazing down at him with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“What?” he breathes out before their lips meet in a quick movement of limbs and heat pressing together. Harry’s mouth is hot and soft against his, a hint of growing stubble on his jaw pressing into Louis’ freshly shaven skin which only makes Louis gasp and pull Harry onto his body more firmly. Louis’ back is pressed flush against the cool wall, his hands woven in Harry’s long curls and when he tugs on a stray curl at the back of Harry’s neck, Harry lets out a moan.

Both men freeze, Harry’s lustful response to their kiss knocking them out of their trance. Their lips break apart with a wet sound and Louis stares up desperately at Harry, his body alive and tingling like never before. He’s alive, he’s _fucking alive_  and he never wants this sensation to stop. He seriously cannot remember the last time someone made him feel like this, and that should absolutely worry him a lot more than it does.

“I don’t wanna take the stairs, Louis,” Harry murmurs, his voice gently wrecked and low. The rumbling tones of Harry’s voice send shivers of lust down his spine and Louis nods dumbly, his lips parted as he breathes out quickly.

"I don't want to watch a film. I want to watch you fuck me," Louis says suddenly, his eyes wide and full half with want and half with shock at his own brazenness, all caution thrown to the wind.

“Okay, okay, elevator,” Harry rushes out and they both exchange a stupid grin before they compose themselves to go back the way they came.

Louis pushes open the double doors and allows Harry to lead them both back out towards the elevator, one firm hand on the curve of Louis’ lower back as he keeps the other man close to him with an air of possession. He smirks as he watches Louis preen underneath the attention, a delicate colour rising into his cheeks and his body leaning into Harry’s side as they wait for the elevator to come back down to their floor.

Soon enough, purely due to the hour, more people begin to join them in the wait for the elevator. Harry’s daring hand slips down from the curve of Louis’ lower back to squeeze Louis’ bum firmly, right in front of an unsuspecting forty year old woman who is too busy gossiping about her best friend to her disinterested husband. Louis bites down on a squeak and shoots Harry a warning glare, his lips parted in shock. Harry raises an eyebrow at him and spreads his hand out on the grip it has on the man’s bum.

Harry leans down to brush his lips against Louis’ ear. “Feel how big my hand is on you, Louis? Imagine how big they’ll look on your hips whilst I fuck you until you’re begging for mercy. Or more. Perhaps both. How does that sound?” He talks slowly, ending his speech with a sharp nip to Louis’ earlobe. As he pulls away, he smirks at Louis’ dishevelled state.

“You’re an asshole,” he laughs breathlessly, his eyes darkening at the many possibilities.

Harry shrugs. “Perhaps.”

-

It’s only when Louis is naked and rubbing against Harry’s fully clothed body that he tries to be a good person, a good husband.

"This is wrong," Louis pants, morals suddenly kicking in as Harry sinks his teeth into Louis' tanned flesh. The feeling of Harry’s teeth in his flesh makes the man moan loudly. " _so wrong_. M-my husband-"

The taller man in front of him cuts him off with a harsh squeeze of his ass, pulling their hips together. "Your husband isn't here, remember? He ditched you, baby, and you deserve better than that. You deserve the _world_ " he mumbles into Louis’ neck. Louis nods, breath quickening and blood hissing in his veins as he sinks to his knees, too aroused and mesmerised by the situation and the man in front of him to allow rational thinking to actually take place.

"Fuck, the things I'm gonna do to you," Harry moans and grabs a fistful of Louis' hair, making the smaller man gasp and bump his nose against Harry's thigh.

Louis can’t put a stop to the heated feelings that are rushing through his body as he mouths hungrily at the bulge in Harry’s trousers, fumbling with the zipper with shaking fingers and tugging at the waistband of both Harry’s trousers and boxers. Once Harry is freed, Louis gasps. Harry is big and thick and beautiful with veins running down the side of his cock. Louis’ mouth waters, his lips easily parting in response.

The room is silent except for Louis’ exploding head and Harry’s ragged breathing. Louis almost forgets that there is a beautifully fine specimen of a man attached to the cock in front of his face but then Harry tugs gently at Louis’ hair. Louis gulps and moves in, shuffling on his knees, as he sucks the tip into his mouth with a moan. He can feel Harry’s thighs tense beneath his small hands as he sucks him in deeper into his mouth. The sounds that Harry is making above him are obscene, loud, breathless grunts that fall into pattern with each clench and unclench of his fist in Louis’ feathery hair. It’s insanely hot and Louis has to physically stop himself from palming himself by squeezing large amounts of Harry’s thighs in his hands instead.

“ _Slut_!” Harry moans, tugging at Louis’ hair painfully to make Louis come off his cock and forcing their eyes to meet, dark on dark. Louis has to fight back a submissive whimper, his eyes going wide and mouth dropping out into an ‘o’. Harry drags Louis up to his feet, clamping both of his large hands onto Louis’ curves to grind their naked cocks together. Louis’ legs nearly buckle but Harry’s grip and dark gaze keeps him grounded.

“Sluts have to _behave_ , don’t they, baby?” Harry pants into Louis’ ear, making the man mewl weakly. “otherwise, sluts don’t get filled just the way they want. And my slut wants filled nice and good, yeah?"

Louis chokes on a sob, holding onto Harry's broad shoulders with his small hands as he arches his back up to press closer into Harry's body. " _Yes_  Harry, yes," he begs, biting down into the pillow of his bottom lip. "please fuck me, please fill me up, Harry, _please_."

Harry hums, pressing a hard kiss to Louis' mouth before he bends down to pick Louis up and laying him down on the white sheets. Louis arches his back on the bed, spreading his legs out as he waits impatiently for Harry's body on his. But Harry isn't moving. Instead he's kneeling at the edge of the bed, watching Louis with a smirk on his face and something in his eyes.

"W-what?" Louis mumbles, suddenly self conscious.

"You're beautiful," Harry says with no hesitation. Louis giggles, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as he blushes profusely at the compliment. He can't remember the last time he's been called that, and oddly, it's more funny than sad.

Moving in to lay in between Louis' open thighs, Harry pulls Louis' arm away and looks down at Louis curiously. The lights from the chandelier creates shadows down onto Harry's naked shoulder blades and reflects stars in his green eyes, Louis is a little speechless. Harry is beautiful, absolutely beautiful and the curve of his lips that shape around his praises towards Louis make his stomach twist in pleasure.

" _Fucking stunning_ " Harry enthuses as he kisses him softly, barely a brush upon lips. It only makes Louis giggle again but the giggle is soon replaced with a gasp as Harry begins to suck bruises into Louis' body as he moves further downwards until his face is nestled in between Louis' thighs. It leaves Louis shivering and begging for more in Harry's wake as Harry's mouth sinks further down his caramel skin. Harry swiftly ignores Louis' hard cock, curved up against his stomach, and instead smirks at Louis' moan when he bites into the flesh of Louis' thigh.

" _Harry_!"

"You wanna watch me, yeah?" Harry asks, eyes clear and smile soft.

Louis nods, unable to trust his voice as he watches Harry rub a thumb over Louis' puckered rim. Louis whines loudly, reaching out to slide his hands into Harry's hair when Harry blows soft air over his exposed hole.

"H-Harry" he whimpers, hips bucking up for more.

"You're gonna watch me eat you out then I'll fuck you. Yeah?"

Louis blushes roughly, feeling his body on fire as Harry kitten licks over Louis' rim. He grinds out a whine at the wet sensation, his eyes slipping shut as Harry laps at Louis' puckered hole, but he nods again. It's been so long since he's been properly fucked, since someone has taken their time to prep Louis, since his husband has... 

His mind goes blank as heat floods Louis' body when Harry licks into Louis, flicking his tongue up to stretch Louis out. Louis breathes out shakily, moaning softly as Harry slides two fingers inside alongside his tongue. It's warm and wet and perfect and Louis has never felt more turned on in his entire life.

"So good" Louis moans, tugging harshly at Harry's hair to pull him in closer. " _fuck_!" he gasps when Harry pulls back to suck on Louis' rim before he lifts his face to look up at Louis as he fingers him slowly.

Harry looks obscene; hair everywhere, lips bright red and wet, and eyes blown with dark desire. It makes Louis' stomach clench with delicious want that only intensifies as Harry adds a third finger. The metal of Harry's rings catch on Louis' rim and Louis gives out a shout.

" _Fuck me_!" Louis begs, chest rising and falling quickly as he kicks loosely at Harry's shoulder blades with his heels. "Harry, /please/!"

Humming, Harry smirks and squeezes a handful of Louis' ass before he slides up to press a kiss to Louis' parted lips.

"You want fucked?" Harry teases breathlessly.

Louis groans in response and Harry laughs, reaching over to grab a condom and lube from his wallet on the table. Louis wants to make a joke about the fact that Harry actually carries those things with him, like a fucking frat boy. But then Harry's cock is wrapped, slick with lube and pushing into Louis' heat with Harry's mouth over his so he's fortunately occupied with clutching at Harry's back as he gasps highly.

Harry's big, and easily stretches Louis out further as he slowly bottoms out. Louis feels overwhelmed, thighs wrapped around Harry's waist as he slowly thrusts into Louis' heat.

"This good?" he moans against Louis' neck and Louis moans out an affirmative, fingernails digging into Harry's shoulder blades as Harry moves smoothly in and out of his heat.

Harry lifts his head to look into Louis' eyes and his gaze is too... focused for this to be _casual_  and- Louis is married. But, fuck. This feels amazing.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Louis Tomlinson," Harry rasps out as he gives a hard thrust into Louis. Louis cries out, arching his back as he begs to be fucked ' _harder_!' Of course, Harry gives Louis exactly what he wants.

Harry's size is... Harry is tall and broad and muscled and tattooed and Louis can't help but feel hot all over as Harry fucks him, his large body totally covering Louis' and trapping Louis' cock in between their torsos.

Louis is hot, cheeks and chest flushed, his fringe stuck to his forehead when he drags Harry in for a rough kiss at the same time as Harry changes the angle in a way that makes Louis cry out in ecstasy, his thighs tensing around Harry's waist before he comes with a sob.

"Oh G-God!" Louis whines, body slumping back into the sheets after he comes and lays back, pulling Harry's head to his chest as he lets Harry use his body until he comes in the condom, their bodies rocking together like tidal waves crashing as Harry reaches his climax.

"Fuck!" Harry rasps and Louis whines, dragging his nails down Harry's back because someone's deep voice should not be so fucking hot. But it is.

The couple stay clinging together, stuck by a layer of sweat, sex and cum before Louis whines and Harry laughs, pulling out. Like a true gentleman, he cleans Louis up and smiles before rolling onto his back to give Louis space. Louis blushes happily, ignoring the stab of want that accompanies the distance between them as he clambers off the bed and redresses himself.

His hair is an obvious mess, his shirt crinkled and lips bitten red but... it's windy outside. Perfect alibi.

To his surprise, when Louis turns around to find his coat, Harry is there with it in his hands as he waits to walk Louis out. Not asleep. James normally conks out after they fuck.

Harry is a gentleman and Louis is married.

"Thank you," Louis nods shyly and tugs on his coat as Harry opens the door for him.

"You could stay here if you want?" Harry offers, hand splayed on the door knob. Louis laughs and shakes his head.

"Got a husband waiting for me, I'm sure," he politely declines and blushes again when Harry bends down to kiss Louis goodbye.

"Bye." they both echo at the same time and Louis and Harry both laugh before Louis leaves, pretending that he doesn't still feel Harry's mouth on his or the way Harry feels inside of him.

Instead, he goes home and climbs into bed next to his sleeping husband and tries to forget the feeling of another man's body on his skin.

 

//

 

Things go relatively back to normal for the following couple of weeks whilst Louis focuses on being a good husband and forgetting about his sexy encounter with Harry, instead making sure that there’s always dinner on the table for when James comes home and laughing graciously at all his mediocre jokes when they’re presented as the besotted young married couple at his work functions and neglecting his notepad and pen in his bedside drawers at night to suck his husband off before they fall asleep next to each other.

Louis tries, tries really hard to stamp down the odd feeling of guilt nestled into his bones but it also seems like James doesn’t try, doesn’t even bother to return the favour with any feeling of gratitude. So, one month later, when James neglects to come home for a dinner Louis made especially for him to celebrate his success at work (candles and wine and everything, damn it) and instead decides to go out to his colleague’s house for a few drinks, Louis snaps.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me, James? I fucking made this nice meal for you, like I do every fucking day for your stupid ass and you can’t even find the common courtesy to fucking come home and _eat_ with me first?!” Louis shouts down the phone, unbelievably pissed.

“Louis!” James snaps right back, his voice harsh and commanding and Louis shrinks back visibly, alone in the large kitchen. He hates it when he uses that tone of voice on him, just to get what he wants. It always fucking works and Louis can attest to that due to the fact that he can feel his resolve crumbling as if he were an ancient building overridden with corrosion. “It’s one fucking night. Stop being so fucking clingy, Jesus… It’s not like you have anywhere else to be!” James laughs and Louis flushes a deep red.

“That’s not fair!” He hisses weakly down the phone, moving around the marble island in the middle of the kitchen to sit down on one of the high backed stools. “I… I stopped working, I stopped writing, I stopped _everything_ for you, James! But… it’s not even fucking _worth it_!”

James’ voice cuts into the conversation again, a soft, frustrated, “Louis…” but Louis cut him off again.

“No! Fuck you! Fucking have _fun_ with your pals, James. I’m going out tonight so don’t fucking wait up if you even bother to come home!”

Louis ends the call, ignoring the cut off shouts of his name from his husband’s end as he sends a text to Zayn to pick him up in twenty minutes to go out. Zayn texts back in record time which makes Louis smile absently before he throws the phone to the other side of the marble island and stands up.

He needs to let off some steam so badly and just… forget about his asshole of a husband. It’s his own fault really, for falling into the trap of abusing the opportunity that allows him to be looked after whilst not working another day in his life. It’s great when he can’t be arsed to throw himself out of bed earlier than 11am but when he catches James’ patronising eyes on him for bringing up ‘maybe like… going back to my writing – maybe my publishing house will take me back!’’, he swiftly drops it.

When Louis married James, he gave up a lot. He moved to London with him for his work and he gave up on his job as a book editor (and aspiring writer) because James was right, it was ‘pointless and going nowhere’. But to say that Louis doesn’t miss his writing, his job, his family or anything he had before he married James would be a massive understatement.

James is his high school sweetheart, so really, he didn’t have any choice, right?

Louis shakes his head, clearing his head of thoughts about his husband and searches through his wardrobe for something that is suitable for a night out. After ten minutes, he finally unearths his old black skinny jeans and low cut maroon top, throwing them off and slipping his vans onto his feet.

He takes a minute to admire his hourglass figure in the long mirror hooked onto the wall with a shy but sure smile, running his hands over his thighs and ass in approval, humming happily before he starts to do his hair, throwing it up into an easy quiff.

When Louis goes back downstairs to find his phone, Zayn is sat in the kitchen with two shot glasses full to the brim with coloured liquid. Their eyes meet and they both grin, stepping towards each other to hug each other. It’s been way too long since they’ve seen each other and Louis is eternally grateful for his best friend. While everyone else had remained at home, Zayn had followed Louis down to London two months into Louis’ marriage. Zayn always maintains that the pursuit of his art was the main reason for the move but Louis is able to squeeze out Zayn’s confession of undying love in between tequila shots and pizza slices.

Zayn’s got his sleeves on display as he wears a black tank top and grey skinny jeans, his hair naturally curling over his forehead to complete the carefree artist look that he loves to sport because he knows for a fact that it drives his fiancée crazy.

Zayn lets out a low whistle when they part and Louis laughs, rolling his eyes as Zayn makes a big show of dragging his eyes up and down Louis’ body in dramatized appreciation. “Who the fuck are we impressing tonight then?” he teases.

Louis smirks and reaches for the shot glass on the left, downing it quick and easy then shivering with a wince at the mixture of strong liquids as they rush and burn down the back of Louis’ throat. He laughs and put the shot glass down again, pocketing his phone as he walks around to throw his arms around Zayn’s waist.

“Oh baby, only you!” He declares dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes prettily up at his best friend, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Zayn snorts and shrugs him off, rolling his eyes in amusement. “Shut the fuck up, loser!” He laughs and smacks Louis’ ass playfully on his way to the front door. “Let’s get going before the club fucking closes!”

Louis giggles loudly to himself and follows his best friend, immensely grateful for the distraction that Zayn brings, and Louis tells him just as much, smacking a loud kiss to Zayn’s neck with a grin. Zayn only grumbles and pushes Louis off him, rolling his eyes as they walk out of the estate.

“Shut the fuck up, Lou, you’re making our Lad Night into something really sappy and boring…” he whines as he swipes his hand down his neck to wipe away Louis’ saliva from his skin. “And I swear, if you fucking give me another mark that I gotta explain to my girl, I will kill you and burn every pair of Vans you own.”

Louis only laughs louder, feeling extremely light as they clamber into the back of the taxi.

-

The lights are pounding into Louis’ head and if he wasn’t already halfway drunk from the shots him and Zayn had taken in the back of the cab, then he’d seriously be in a shit mood right now. Luckily, he feels great.

Louis is hanging off of Zayn’s back as Zayn giggles out his order of tequila and vodka shots. Fucking lightweight. The two men lean against the bar, downing the shots one by one and laughing loudly, wincing as the sour liquid slides down their throats.

“Lou, that is fucking vile! Why do you make me drink this shit?” Zayn chokes out, his cheeks a bright red as the alcohol surges through his bloodstream.

Zayn opens his mouth again to speak and Louis covers Zayn’s mouth with his small hand. It looks hilarious.

“I slept with someone else” Louis blurts out, his eyes wide and chest heaving with exertion, the heaviness of the alcohol he’s so far consumed hitting him all at once.

Zayn’s mouth drops open, forcing Louis to pull his hand away with a whine as the tip of Zayn’s tongue touches him palm. “Bitch! Gross!” he gasps, scrunching his nose up.

“You did what?!” Zayn asks in shock.

“It! Sex! With someone else! Like… a month ago! Zayn fuck, am I a bad person? Fuck, I’m a bad person. James is gonna kill me when he finds out, I…” Louis shakes his head, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, laughing slightly manically.

Zayn snorts, shaking his head. “Babe. You’re not telling James. Jesus fucking… Who was it?”

Louis flushes, wracking his brain for any memory of the man’s name. “Harry something, Harry….”

“… Styles. Nice to meet you.”

A sudden heat comes up behind Louis and his body reacts instantly, pushing back into the warmth until his skin comes into contact with a broad, muscled chest. Memories of hard muscles, strong hands and soft lips pressed up against his body come flooding back and he can tell that it shows on his face by the shocked expression on Zayn’s face.

Thankfully, Zayn recovers quicker than Louis does as he holds out his hand for Harry to shake. The two men talk over his head whilst Louis is in a semi-drunken haze as he focuses on breathing properly for the first time in weeks.

“Lou!” Zayn interrupts Louis’ daze and he smiles on instinct, flushing brightly at the smirk on Zayn’s face. “Mind if I head home? Reckon you and… Harry need to talk, babe,” he winks and pecks Louis on the forehead before he weaves himself through the crowd and into the cold breeze of the night.

Louis releases a gasped whine, slowly turning around to look at the look on Harry’s face. Harry is, again, more handsome than should be humanly possible and the bastard is wearing a dirty smirk on his face as he looks down at Louis’ bright red face.

“How did you recognise me? It’s busy tonight,” Louis says lamely, coughing to cover his awkwardness.

Harry bites his lip, covering up a wide smile as his hand spans out over Louis’ hip, pulling the smaller man into his body.

“Hard to not recognise that arse, love.”

Louis huffs and slaps Harry’s chest, whining softly when Harry’s free hand comes up to close around both of Louis’ wrists. “You’re not fair!” Louis whines, pouting.

Harry’s eyelashes fan out over his cheekbones as he blinks and Louis thinks he believes in God.

“I’m not fair, babe?” he asks.

“No,” Louis whines drunkenly. “Your hair is in a bun and that makes you look even hotter and I really want you to fuck me and it’s too crowded and no one ever lets me write and the bees are dying and it’s not fair!”

Harry barks out a laugh, licking his lips as he propped his elbow up on the bar, resting his chin in his palm, watching Louis in interest. “What, your husband can’t fuck you properly?” he teases.

With his inhibitions lowered dangerously, Louis shakes his head without hesitation. “Your cock is thicker, Harry,” he says bluntly, blinking up at Harry innocently as he raises his hand to tug at Harry’s cross necklace. “Wanna remind me how thick you are?” he purrs, smiling sweetly at the man in front of him.

The green strobe lights flicker prettily against the slope of Harry’s jaw as he watches Louis intently. “You wanna get split open again, baby?” he whispers, leaning down to suck slowly on Louis’ neck, making the smaller man arch and whine in response to the touch.

“Take me home, take me home, take me home,” Louis pants, pulling Harry down into a frenzied kiss. He bites down on Harry’s bottom lip, making the broad man growl softly at the back of his throat. His fingers scratch at the loops of Harry’s belt, pulling him in so that their hips bump and rub together.

“You’re so fucking hot baby, fuck… is it crazy to say I missed you?” Harry murmurs as he gropes Louis’ ass roughly.

Louis shakes his head, smiling widely. “Only if it’s crazy to say that I would choke on your cock in front of this whole club if you asked me to?”

Louis giggles brightly as Harry spins him around roughly, his hands firm and strong on Louis’ waist as he guides him out of the club and into a cab no less than five minutes later, his neck littered with bright red marks and scratches over his biceps.

-

Louis tumbles onto the bed after his second orgasm, his tummy sticky and thighs still a bit sore from the position on his spread knees. He giggles and blinks up at Harry from under his eyelashes. Harry leans down and licks at the smear of cum that he’d left on Louis’ cheek, trailing his mouth down to suck on Louis’ lips.

“Love how thick you are,” he mumbled, biting playfully at Harry’s bottom lip.

Harry snorts softly, raking his fingers down the inside of Louis’ trembling thighs. Louis gasps, his body reacting instantly as his hips thrust up with a whimper.

“Don’t tease!” Louis pouts, pushing at Harry’s naked chest before pulling him back in with two grabby hands clutching onto both sides of the open flannel shirt, wrinkled from the tugging and pushing. “Besides… why are you only half naked and yet I’m fully naked?”

Harry smiles, pressing his mouth firmly to Louis’ for a second before he pulls back. “Because, you,” he says, squeezing Louis’ bicep. “got naked so I could finger you properly and were begging for me to fuck you before you changed your mind and decided you wanted me to stretch out that pretty little mouth of yours instead. Remember, sweetie?” he coos, making Louis flush a bright red as he remembers how needy he was.

Harry opens his mouth to say something else and Louis pulls at his hair, taking the hair tie out so that Harry’s hair cascades down over his shoulders. The breath leaves Harry’s lungs for a second before he quickly recovers, blushing hard as he tucks hair behind his ear.

“Give me your number,” Louis demands, starting to feel the aftershocks of his orgasms and the alcohol soaking into his body as his eyes begin to droop with fatigue.

“My… number?” Harry asks.

Louis nods. “Your number. Your phone number.” He pauses only to grin sleepily. “Don’t tell me you’re a weird alien who doesn’t own a phone, Haz” Louis giggles and shuffles up the bed. “In the morning, you can give me your phone but right now, you’re gonna be my big spoon please?”

Harry would be a fool to say no to that, so he curls up behind Louis’ already sleeping form and covers the pair up with the heavy blanket, finally dropping off after pressing a kiss to the mark he left on the back of Louis’ neck.

In the morning, Louis’ marital bed is empty but his text conversation with Zayn is full with dog emojis, his contact list is expanded with a brand new phone number in and his body feels fuller and more content than before.

He almost misses the post it note pressed to his forehead with a doodle of two spoons pressed together.

 

//

 

The next few weeks go by in a whirlwind of great sex, hushed mouths and forbidden touches pinning Louis down into various spots within Harry’s house. Harry is fantastic, an amazing lover and he has the goofiest laugh that Louis has ever heard in his life.

Of course, Louis still sees James and plays the role of the good husband that he needs to be despite the fact that Louis can feel himself falling further and further away from his grasp. Luckily, he has Zayn, who doesn’t completely approve of him cheating but he doesn’t tell him outright that he’s doing the wrong thing, either. Louis loves Zayn.

Still, it doesn’t ease away the guilt that is always present in the back of his mind.

It's 3am and the bright digits of Louis' alarm clock are blinking at him, judging him for being awake still when his husband is snoring contentedly next to him, a heavy arm slung over Louis’ waist. It's a good question, to be honest. He should be asleep by now but his thumb keeps hovering over his phone as if that will make him go to sleep quicker.

Suddenly, his phone lights up and Louis sits up, trying not to jostle his husband out of sleep. But James is a heavy sleeper and he sleeps for as long as he sighs so Louis doesn’t worry about that.

_H: hiiii.... you awake ? x_

_L: it’’s 3am._

Louis quickly types back with the light from his phone illuminating his soft smile in the dark, his heart racing from Harry’s simple text. He turns down the brightness on his phone, just to be safe.

_H: Coooool I've got a surprise x_

_L: it’s 3 a m ...._

_H: you’re not busy, right ? x_

Both Louis and Harry know that he is rarely busy when James is home, especially at this hour. But Louis blushes all the same and quickly types out a ' _no_ ' before he sits and waits for a response, chewing on a jagged fingernail in the silence of his marital bedroom. James shifts with a grumbling groan, turning over to lay on his back and grip his pillow in his hand. The sudden move makes Louis’ breath catch as if he’s about to be caught doing something he shouldn’t but then James’ breathing evens out again and he’s fine. It’s fine.

Just texting the man he’s fucking behind his husband’s back whilst his husband sleeps next to him. No biggie.

_H: Get your beautifully sculpted ass outside then x_

Louis takes a double take. What?

_L: huh???????_

_H: im outside!! c’mon, you coming or what, Tommo? x_

Louis really can’t stop himself from smirking and he really shouldn't, not when his husband is laying on his back with his wedding band on show as he grips the pillow in one hand. But Louis can't stop himself as he drags on a baggy jumper and soft leggings, slipping on his favourite pair of Vans before sneaking out of the house.

When Louis successfully leaves the house with minor noises, Harry is leaning against his car with his arms crossed against his chest and a soft smirk placed on his lips. He knew Louis would come and it's evident in the soft hum he makes when their lips meet gently, Harry’s arms circling easily around Louis’ waist.

"Hi," Louis whispers against the curve of Harry's bottom lip.

When Harry takes a quick squeeze of Louis' bum, Harry huffs out a soft chuckle and a low, "oops". But Harry isn't sorry and Louis really doesn't care as he giggles under the blanket of darkness and leans into Harrys body.

"So what do you want with me at three in the morning, love?" Louis whispers finally when he can no longer take the soft gaze on his lips and jaw.

"Ooh, a lot," Harry purrs and drags Louis into a slow kiss. "But it's a surprise, I  _told_  you!"

Louis laughs and leans into Harry so that their cocks are flush against each other through the fabric of their clothing. "Surprise me then." Harry whines softly at the contact and bats Louis away with a dignified pout, linking their fingers together instead. Louis’ stomach swoops lowly and he squeezes Harry’s fingers in his before he can stop himself. Even at 3am, with the wind lowly blowing around them, Harry’s hands are warm and soothing in Louis’ hold.

“Hey, this is totally platonic! Just wanna show you something, is all!” He protests with a wide grin and Louis snorts, rolling his eyes as he drags a hand through Harry’s hair before cupping the man’s jaw with a smile.

“Because dragging me out of my bed, away from my husband, to grope my ass outside my house - at 3am - is _totally_  platonic, right, Haz?” Louis teases, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s jaw before he drops his hand with a gentle blush teasing his cheeks. “Well... shall we?"

Harry’s eyes catch Louis’ for a second before he nods. Before he lets go, Harry pulls Louis in and licks into Louis’ mouth with a hum, kissing him slowly and languidly, making Louis gasp and clutch onto him. Warmth washes over his body despite the cool air caressing his bare skin because it’s so _hot_ , is the thing. Harry’s hands are everywhere, tugging at his hips and sliding underneath Louis’ thin shirt and sucking on the tip of Louis’ tongue to make him breath out heavy pants into Harry’s mouth, all the while Louis’ husband is fast asleep in the house behind. It makes Louis blush and pull back with a soft pop, smiling sheepishly as he pokes at Harry’s hip.

“Surprise me, then,” he murmurs.

Harry grins and opens the passenger door of his car open for Louis. “Jump in.”

-

“Where the /fuck/ are you taking me, Styles?” Louis pouts, fiddling with the radio. They’ve been driving for a solid twenty minutes and Louis is getting restless, pouting as he glances over to Harry.

“Five minutes, baby, and we’ll be there,” Harry smirks, watching Louis from the corner of his eye. He reaches out and laces their fingers together whilst keeping one hand on the wheel, sending warmth and butterflies to race inside his stomach. Harry’s touch grounds him and he finds himself relaxing under the touch, smiling shyly at Harry.

“I don’t have long, Harry,” he murmurs quietly as Harry pulls up on the side of the road.

Outside their little bubble they’ve created, Harry has parked up alongside a tall building on a silent, dark street. It’s not creepy enough to make Louis worried about Harry’s intentions, just quiet and dark in the winter season and surrounded by other tall buildings, but no further clue into Harry’s plans for them both. Louis lets his mind wander where the hell they are. He’s definitely never been to this side of the city before so he’s ultimately lost at first glance.

Harry nods, hand tightening on Louis’ hand to bring him back to reality as he kills the engine and allows comfortable silence to wrap itself around the pair. Harry clears his throat and nods again, before getting out the car and rounding the vehicle to open the door for Louis with an offered hand to him. Louis takes it gratefully and lets Harry lead him.

Louis is led into the building with a turn of Harry’s gold key, Harry’s palm securely locked with Louis’. They go into the elevator located mere feet away and Harry presses a button marked ‘17’. Louis finds himself leaning into Harry’s side before Harry tugs him into his arms, squeezing Louis’ waist as their lips find each other and mold together.

Kissing Harry is easy, effortless. It’s easy to just latch onto Harry’s plump bottom lip, soft and full like a girl’s, and just bite down on it lightly and release sweet little breaths into Harry’s mouth. It’s easy to just relax in Harry’s embrace and let him kiss the breath right out of his mouth whilst smiling into the touch. It’s easy, the way their mouths fit together as if they were made to kiss each other.

What isn’t easy, is that thought. That they’re _made for each other_. It makes the world too heavy and makes Louis feel dizzy and warm and happy all at the same time, because of one man. Louis doesn’t believe in soul mates. The concept that one person belonging to another is too big, too heavy for him to comprehend. Not when he married for convenience.

The elevator opens and before Louis can catch a glimpse of what is front of him, Harry covers both of Louis’ eyes with his hands from behind. At Louis’ sputtering protests, Harry simply smiles into Louis’ hair and slowly guides him out of the elevator and walks them forward ten, fifteen, twenty steps before he stops and turns Louis slowly so that he facing back the way he came. The only clue Louis has is that they’re outside, definitely outside, as the cold air wraps around him again. He’d be shivering if it weren’t for the warmth that oozes from Harry’s body behind him.

“Harry!” Louis giggles and tries to pull Harry’s hands away, his small hands scrambling to grab onto Harry’s long fingers to push them away as he tries to find light instead of dark. Louis feels a kiss being pressed to the skin behind his ear and a murmur of ‘act surprised’ come from Harry’s mouth before he drops his hands and catches Louis’ hands in his from behind.

Louis opens his eyes and gasps, eyes widening in disbelief.

In front of him is a large open space, the top of the building, obviously. But along the walls and wrapped around the legs of a table that is pressed against the wall furthest away are purple fairy lights that illuminate the space. The table is long, partnered with a plush chair and hidden underneath the canopy of a small, metal gazebo that protects it from bad weather and the gazebo is draped over with sweet white material that makes it look that bit prettier. It’s beautiful and Louis chokes back tears as he turns around quickly to look at Harry.

“You-” he begins, grinning widely at him. “What... what is this?” he begs, demanding an explanation. Harry laughs softly and leads him over to the gazebo, sitting down in the chair and tugging Louis into his lap. Louis goes easily, looking around in wonder, his mouth slack in awe.

“You once told me,” Harry begins, capturing Louis’ attention again. “That you love writing outside but there really isn’t much space to do it at home because like, no garden, right? So I thought maybe - if you wanted - you could just come here to write or get away or just sit and smoke, or something, right? Because-”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss, tears pricking his eyelids as he scoots closer in Harry’s lap and kisses him breathless. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gasps, pulling back with wet lips and wetter eyes as he holds Harry’s face in his hands, looking at him in almost disbelief. “No one has ever, like...” he shakes his head, blushing roughly as he kisses Harry again, sighing contentedly against his mouth.

“You like it then?” Harry asks, something pulling at his mouth to make him smirk widely and Louis laughs, batting Harry’s chest and nodding.

“ _Yes_ , you dick!” he giggles and bites his lip, looking around again. “The lights?” he asks.

“Your favourite colour is purple and you’re my pretty fairy,” Harry explains as if it’s the easiest explanation in the world. Louis giggles again and stands up, pulling Harry up with him.

“You’re my perfect star, Harry Styles. The only light in my dark, dark life.” He teases breathlessly, pecking Louis’ mouth.

“Star?”

Louis nods. “An amazing star. You’re my star… Take me home, Haz, before I suck you off out of gratitude,” he teases and Harry hums with a smirk, pulling a blushing Louis back into his lap.

“Make out with me first.” Harry whispers, his eyes full with something else but Louis neglects to ask him about it and agrees instead, pressing their mouths together with a sigh.

-

By the time Harry has taken Louis home, the sun is starting to come up and Louis’ cheeks are bright red with happiness and his lips swollen with passion.

“Thank you,” he whispers again, smiling shyly at Harry and playing with his fingers as they stand, chest to chest, leaning against Harry’s car. Harry shakes his head and raises one hand to push hair behind Louis’ ear, kissing the spot gently.

“You deserve those little things, Lou,” he whispers.

“Okay,” he murmurs, kissing Harry slowly before pulling back for a seventh time in the last five minutes with a blush. “I gotta go, Styles.”

“Night-morning, Tomlinson” Harry mumbles against Louis’ mouth as he kisses him one last time. Louis giggles and rolls his eyes, pushing at Harry’s chest as he moves backwards and turns to go into his house. He pretends Harry isn’t watching him walk away.

Louis had never hated going back into his own home more than that morning.

 

//

 

The moon is glowing through the curtains and Louis has got Harry spread out on the bed, wearing nothing but his expensive Burberry shirt spread wide open to expose his tense abs and tattooed chest as he marks Harry's body with a collision of lips and dainty fingers. James had forced Louis to a wedding earlier this week so Louis is making up for it now with lips ghosting over Harry's ribs with sexy, red lingerie hugging his curves.

Louis thinks that Harry's body is nothing short of art; his broad shoulders but slim waist, long legs and strong arms, prominent jawline and long fingers decorated with various rings. Not to mention Harry's piercing green eyes which seem to have the power to make him feel insignificant yet important at the same time.

Louis' mouth trails up the inside of Harry's forearm to the curve of Harry’s shoulder. As Louis slides his hand down the length of Harry’s arm, his fingers trail over Harry’s wrist before sliding his fingers into Harry’s. When Harry freezes under the touch, Louis instantly tenses as well, worrying that he’s done something wrong or that Harry has realised what a massive mistake this is. It’s gonna happen sooner, or later. His eyes flick up to meet Harry's in a careful gaze and he smiles sweetly, squeezing their fingers together as he waits for Harry to explain his reaction. It's a few beats too long for Louis' liking before Harry speaks.

"Don't get mad" he whispers soothingly.

Louis frowns, staring back at Harry thoughtfully. "But…?”

"I, ah… I got a tattoo," Harry says and Louis scoffs lightly. That's not a problem, right? Harry has a million tattoos! Except, "I got a tattoo for you, Louis."

Louis gasps and shakes his head. "What were you _thinking_ , Haz? Tattoos are permanent!" he whines, cringing at how shaky his voice sounds. James never got a tattoo for him. James hates tattoos.

Harry quickly takes charge, pulling Louis up to sit in his lap and cradling Louis' face in his hands. "No, no, no, it's okay! It’s not- baby, hey. It’s not anything massive, I promise," he says, planting a kiss to Louis’ mouth, which Louis returns but only for a few seconds before he pulls away with a wet sound.

He licks his lips and narrows his eyes suspiciously. "I swear to _God_ , Harry Styles, if you fucking got my name tattooed on any part of your body, I will fucking kill you," he grumbles and Harry sighs, letting go off Louis’ hand and presenting his wrist to Louis, showing off his fresh tattoo.

It's a star. A beautiful, black star tattooed on the inside of Harry's wrist. Louis' hand flies to cover his mouth because he's both unsure as to whether he's allowed to touch it and because it's gorgeous and _them_. His star has a star.

"You- you fucking got a star," he mumbles softly, hesitantly reaching out to trace the outline of the quiet shape. "When?" he asks, looking up at Harry.

Harry smiles sheepishly and rubs a thumb over the back of Louis' neck. "This week," he mumbles. "when you had... plans."

Louis immediately flushes a bright pink and looks down to avoid Harry's gaze because, oh. _Oh_. Wow.

Both men are silent for much longer than necessary before Louis lets out a breathless chuckle and pulls Harry into a kiss that turns out softer than what it should have been. But Louis has melted, gone for Harry in ways he should never be gone for anyone. Harry welcomes Louis into the kiss, humming happily and visibly relaxing under Louis' ministrations.

"You are _totally_  getting laid tonight!" he giggles against Harry's mouth, giddy from the fact that Harry got a fucking _tattoo_  for him. James hates tattoos and always avoids the spots on Louis’ chest where “it is what it is” spreads across the space between his shoulders. But Harry doesn’t.

"Thought I was getting laid anyway," Harry teases fondly, playing with the waistband of the sultry red panties that cup Louis' ass in a delicious fashion and Louis preens quietly underneath the attention, a soft smirk curling the corner of his pink mouth.

Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry, pushing at Harry's chest to make the larger man lay on his back again. "Well, now it's for _definite_ ," he concludes with a smile and drags his body down to kneel in between Harry's open thighs.

But not before he places a gentle kiss to the new art on the inside of his star's wrist. Louis revels in watching the larger man blush - blush! - and he giggles as their lips meet again in a frenzied kiss, Louis grinding his body up against Harry’s. He grabs Harry’s hands and places them on his ass as he grinds up against Harry’s body, his cock quickly fattening up in his panties and precum smearing on Harry’s bare abs.

By now, Louis has mastered every button of Harry’s and how to rile him up and how to bring him down and how to make him do what he wants and it’s fantastic, the fact that he can make this glorious man come undone so easily.

Harry moans appreciatively against Louis’ mouth and squeezes large handfuls of his ass that red lace stretches over, making Louis’ breath catch in his throat as he arches his back and pushes back into the warmth of Harry’s hands.

“Want you to fuck me, baby,” Louis pants quietly against Harry’s ear when Harry’s lips begin to trace up and down the length of his throat. Harry makes a quiet sound at the back of his throat, his hands tightening on Louis’ hips and the man whines, spreading his thighs on instinct. “Harry, _please_!”

Chuckling breathlessly, Harry pulls back and their eyes finally meet again. Louis is relieved to see the same want and desperation in Harry’s eyes that he knows are reflected in his own.

“You want fucked, Lou?” he murmurs, almost rhetorically as he brushes a thumb over Louis’ hole through the silky lace of his panties. Louis trembles under the contact and he nods quickly, breathing harshly into the air that is in between their mouths before he presses their mouths together in a wet kiss, sliding his hands up over Harry’s muscled chest to grab onto handfuls of Harry’s tousled curls.

He nods, biting his pink bottom lip gently. “Please,” he murmurs, sliding his arms around Harry’s neck to pull him closer as he tightens his thighs around Harry’s waist. “Want your cock so bad, baby...”

Harry groans and nods, quickly flipping them over and shedding himself of his expensive, Burberry shirt and flinging it to the floor before sitting on his heels to admire the boy spread out in front of him. Louis is undoubtedly a beautiful sight to behold, his pink mouth parted and desperate, his blue eyes making him gasp as if he’s drowning and sexy thighs spread wide for him as his dainty fingers trace the bruises already left on his hips.

The first time Louis had to explain the bruises on his hips to James, he had stammered and blushed and murmured that James had been rough a few nights prior when they were both drunk. James had accepted it and took that admittance as Louis enjoying him being rough on the rare occasions that James actually had the time to fuck him, and every time Louis turns up to Harry’s, Harry always makes sure to replace James’ marks with his own. His own marks being deeper and much more meaningful, even if the pair of them don’t realise how much each bruise even means to the couple.

“You’re.... you drive me crazy,” Harry says as he slides his palms up over Louis’ stomach before dragging his hands back down and bringing Louis’ panties down his legs on the second stroke, flinging them away to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Louis whines, blinking up prettily at Harry and smiles coyly, dragging Harry into a filthy kiss to contradict his seemingly innocent attitude.

Louis tugs on Harry’s curls roughly, once, in the midst of the kiss before he puts his hands high above his head. “Use me,” he says, chest rising and falling quickly as he surrenders his liberty to Harry.

“Shit, fuck. Fuck. Okay, fuck.” Harry mumbles under his breath, watching his lover submit to him with dark eyes.

Blushing roughly, Harry nods and pauses before he leans over the bed. He retrieves the discarded panties and uses them to bind Louis’ wrists together, making sure that it’s tight but not uncomfortable before he darts kisses up and down Louis’ chest then returning to his mouth again.

“Mon amour,” he sighs happily and Louis grins lazily, kicking at Harry’s ass with the heel of his foot, playfully.

“Gonna impress me with your cultural knowledge or you gonna fuck me, Styles?” he teases and Harry rolls his eyes, muttering a gentle ‘Tomlinson’ under his breath as he lubes himself up.

He suppresses a shudder as his hand moves over his hard cock and positions himself at Louis’ entrance, rubbing his cock against Louis’ exposed hole to drag out a reaction from Louis. He watches in satisfaction as Louis’ eyelashes flutter and he mouths the surname into the column of Louis’ throat as he slowly pushes himself into Louis’ heat, cursing loudly as Louis’ hot, tight heat surrounds his cock.

He never calls Louis by his married name.

“Harry,” Louis keens wistfully but keeps his wrists high up above his head as Harry mouths at his throat, working his hips slowly down until he’s nestled snugly inside of Louis. Louis moans, high and needy and Harry wishes he could imprint the sound in his brain forever. He never wants to forget how Louis feels, how Louis sounds, how Louis looks.

Harry nips gently at Louis’ throat, one hand sliding up to rub slowly over Louis’ tight nipples. He’s rewarded by Louis’ high gasp and he smirks, trailing his lips down to kiss Louis’ mouth as his hands once again find purchase in the curve of Louis’ hips.

“You okay?” he murmurs and Louis nods, quicker than expected. Louis is eager, his thighs trembling with the need for _more_  and his bottom lip bitten bright red as he shifts his hips impatiently, but not enough to make any difference, really. Louis doesn’t say anything, just begs Harry with his eyes, a deeply hidden challenge set in his eyes as he dares Harry to fuck him better.

Pulling his hips back and pushing back into Louis’ heat makes Harry see stars - as cliche as it sounds - and he moans loudly, his eyelids slipping close before he forces them open again. He wants to see this, he wants to watch Louis as he falls apart underneath nothing but Harry’s touch.

It’s been well over a week since they’ve last been this close and it’s been much too long. Louis is a drug, a drug that weaves into Harry’s blood cells and the waves of sensors in his brain until Louis is all that Harry can think or breathe. A person like Louis is addictive and even if Harry would have had the choice, he wouldn’t have avoided him or made sure that their paths never crossed. Louis is possibly the best thing to happen to him. Especially considering the way he can bend and stretch.

Harry sets up a quick rhythm until Louis is moaning loudly underneath him, his thighs coming higher up Harry’s both to wrap around him and Harry has to hang his head to pant heavily into the dips of Louis’ collarbones. Louis’ moans jolt up an octave and Harry can feel the fabric of Louis’ panties against the back of his neck when Louis brings his bound arms around Harry’s neck. His fingertips only just reach into Harry’s curls and Harry moans when Louis tugs gently, his hips jerking up to go deeper and press against Louis’ prostate.

“ _Yes_!” Louis finally cries out, his back arching in desire to pull Harry in deeper into him. “Please, please, Harry, please,” he moans, hands tightening in Harry’s hair.

Harry moans and repeats the movement, over and over again, their hips banging together, until Louis is gasping loudly against Harry’s mouth and coming between their bodies with a harsh jolt of his body. Harry’s hands tighten dangerously on Louis’ hips, sure to leave harsh marks as he fucks Louis through his orgasm roughly and he comes soon after Louis.

The curly haired man moans lowly when he comes and he collapses on top of Louis, exertion pressing heavily down into his shoulders. He whines and pants heavily for a few minutes, brain trying to concentrate on the soft ministrations that Louis’ fingers are doing to his scalp before he pulls out carefully and rolls over onto his back. He pulls Louis with him and gently removes the form of bondage on his wrists and smiles sweetly down at the sated man in his arms, the blankets tight around their bodies.

Once it’s quiet again, (aside from their slower breathing and skim of Louis’ hands on Harry’s chest) Harry whispers, “reckon I should get more tattoos for you, then?”

Louis does nothing but laugh and pull Harry into a slow kiss with one hand firmly placed on the curve of Harry’s jaw line and the other tentatively spread over the expanse of the new tattoo. Harry grins and kisses Louis deeper until Louis is giggling again.

 

//

 

Louis has just come for the third time in a row when Harry says the most stupidest thing he’s ever heard in his life. And that’s saying something, considering he’s once had to endure a drunk Liam _insist_  that Japan is situated right next to Canada.

"Leave him," Harry whispers, his long fingers trailing down Louis' naked, damp back and Louis snorts out a short laugh. Harry can see him roll his eyes as his chin is propped up on the smooth planes of Harry’s chest.

"Good one, Haz." he says fondly, as if all this is just a joke - which, surely it must be, because Harry _knows_  - he’s been explicitly _told_ \- that James and Louis and his situation (his marriage - a situation that he would rather gladly avoid when Harry’s face is in between his thighs or pressed tightly against the curve of his shoulder blades) will not and cannot be mentioned. It’s not fair, on either of them.

Harry frowns, his hand stilling on Louis’ back. Feeling the sudden lack of soothing movement, Louis returns the frown and looks up at Harry with guarded eyes. Always guarded eyes. “What?”

“I mean it. Leave him,” Harry murmurs, enunciating each word slowly as if Louis is a fucking child that needs to be taught the correct days of the week properly before he’s sent off to nursery to play with the other big kids. Louis sighs and melts underneath Harry’s touch as Harry brings his hand up to caress Louis’ jaw, one thumb moving over the hinge of Louis’ jaw. Louis finds himself looking at Harry with curiosity and nerves mingling together.

It’s silent for a long time. This time, like many other times they’ve found each other in a tumble of soft laughter and pressing bruises, it’s not comfortable and gentle but tense and impatient. Louis doesn’t like it. But it’s obvious that Harry isn’t going to break the silence first or even drop the subject altogether. Stubborn bastard that he is.

“And do _what_ , Harry?” Louis groans, finally pulling back from Harry’s touch and moving his legs to roll out of bed before Harry tugs him back with a gentle grip on his wrist, pulling him into his lap. The air seems to lift a little and Louis can’t stop the gentle breath of relief that he releases, closing his eyes and settling more securely on his - Harry’s lap. He’s halfway in a bend to press soft kisses to Harry’s tanned chest when Harry speaks again.

“Be with me,” he says, his voice quiet as a mouse and tone tentative, worried.

Louis frowns again, sighs and moves back to sit up properly, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Haz,” he whines, his hands still covering his eyes. “I’m not- no. I can’t... can’t hop from one man to the next!” he groans loudly, letting his hands drop to make their eyes meet, make Harry see sense. “Don’t you understand that?”

“But-”

“No, Harry.”

“But, maybe you could-”

“No!” Louis interrupts, his voice rising up until it’s reaching an embarrassingly shrill octave. “No, Harry! This is- this is what you get, okay? You get to make me laugh and you get to make me come and you get to make me read silly love poetry on quiet benches at three in the morning and that’s all you get. I’m... I’m _married_ , Haz.”

And neither of them need reminding of _that_.

“I fucking _know_  that, Louis!” Harry snaps and Louis can feel the walls putting themselves into place, locking his shoulders back as he tries to put some distance between the pair with his hands securely on Harry’s chest. It’s more of an opportunity to touch Harry’s skin as opposed to actually putting distance between him and Harry. He’s pathetic.

Louis closes his eyes and ignores the steady pressure of Harry’s hands heavy on his bruised hips. Louis is trying to push away, trying to make this easier whilst Harry’s touch is eager and wanting Louis _closer_ , wanting to make this _harder_. Harry is so fucking difficult and Louis has never been so in- _fond_  of someone before.

“Harry,” Louis finally whispered, his voice quiet and level as he keeps his back straight and eyes pale, guarded against... Harry. “Listen to me, okay? I’m going to make this very simple for you to understand. I can’t  - and I won’t - leave my husband because of a fling okay? This is all this is. You’re bored and available and you like a challenge. But as soon as you’ve... conquered that challenge, or whatever, it’ll be done and you’ll be stuck with boredom rotting in your bones and a whiny twink at your feet. You _don't_  want that. I’m....” Louis pauses to take a deep breath and he bites down on his lower lip as he finally releases Harry’s chest from the pressure of his hands, cradling them to his chest. Harry’s gaze is clear as a summer’s day but his eyebrows are knotted together darkly like a storm brewing slowly but surely. “I love my husband. I love James. I do. I-”

“You’re scared.” The way Harry says those two words is so blunt and it should barely prick his hand but it slices across his stomach like a whip.

“Yeah! No fucking _shit_ , Harry!” he snaps and presses his lips together, forcing himself to calm the _fuck_ down. Harry stares back in shock, a gentle blush fighting its way onto his cheeks as he waits, patient. After thirty more seconds, Louis rakes a hand through his hair and begins again. “James is all I know,” he mumbles. “He’s all I have, I... I was nothing before I met him, you know? I mean, of course you _don't_ , but... I was a stupid little waiter with stupid ideas of being an author, of all things. But I met James, and... I met my new dream. Things - they’re difficult but it’s a marriage, Harry.”

It’s quiet again, except for their mingled breathing and thrum of the world outside Harry’s window. Louis wonders if there’s a traffic jam outside.

“I want to be your new dream,” Harry says and Louis is about a millimetre away from pulling his hair out.

“ _Harry_ -” he groans.

“No! No, listen to me,” Harry rushes, grabbing Louis’ hands in his and holding them to his chest. Louis whimpers. “I can... I can give you everything, Louis. I lo- I care about you so much, okay? You’re very important to me and I want to give you everything you deserve. And you deserve better than him!”

Louis frowns, pulling his hands away roughly, leaving Harry stung and shocked. It’s as if Harry Styles has never been rejected before, but seeing Harry’s eyelashes flutter and eyebrows crease, it’s probable that he really never has been.

“James is a good man.” Louis murmurs, frowning harder when Harry scoffs. “What? You think you’re better than him, Harry?”

“Yes.”

Well.

Louis shakes his head, quickly extracting himself from Harry’s embrace as he mutters under his breath _hedoesntunderstandhedoesntunderstandhedoesntunderstand_ and shoves his legs into his jeans before rummaging for his car keys and making way for the door.

Harry curses loudly from behind him and quickly - too quick to actually be real - gets in Louis’ way of the door, one of his hands grabbing onto Louis’ hip whilst the other cups Louis’ jaw in his palm, forcing their eyes to meet. Louis sighs, painfully.

“Harry, please-” he begins.

Sealing their mouths together, Harry effectively shuts Louis up with a hard kiss. Louis openly whimpers and clutches onto Harry’s hair, kissing him back hungrily before he kicks himself out of his little fantasy - his stupid fantasy that maybe this could /work/ - and pushes Harry off with firm but shaky hands on Harry’s naked chest.

“No.”

“Louis, baby, please-”

“No, Harry! This can’t- you can’t.... fuck! If I could... I would. But I _can't_!” Louis whimpers, staring up at Harry with sadness.

“Are you still fucking him?” Harry whispers, looking up at Louis with wide, vulnerable eyes. He looks like a scared, small boy with his hands forcibly pushing down on the mattress by either side of his hips so that he doesn’t reach out.

Louis ignores Harry’s question. “He’s my husband-“

“Does he still fuck you, Louis?!”

Louis shakes his head, angry and embarrassed, and Harry doesn’t know whether to take that as a “yes” or a “no”. The married man moves away, grabbing his clothes before quickly stumbling past Harry and slamming the door behind him, without looking back or acknowledging Harry’s call.

 _I’m done,_ he texts Harry once he’s finally pulling away from Harry’s home and he’s surprisingly coherent despite the tears blurring his vision. He shuts his phone off and goes back to his marital home with tear stains corrupting his skin.

When Louis returns to the home that he shares with his husband - who is, shockingly, working again - his tears pick up again and he wishes he could arrange broken glass into appliances for time travel.

 

//

 

The following weeks after his and Harry’s bust up are slow and boring and minimal. Louis drinks coffee and smiles prettily on James’ arm, plays the dutiful husband and lets James fuck him against the kitchen counter and the shower wall. Whilst James is at work, he busies himself with eating whole cartons of ice cream and watching stupid old re runs of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. episodes. Some days, he even plays Fifa with Zayn and rants about the stupid expectations that Harry had for him. Zayn nods and cuddles him on the couch, and he even lets Louis win a few times, too. Zayn is a good friend. Louis knows this because Zayn doesn’t say one word about how stupid Louis was to get involved with another man as a married man, himself.

(Except for the remark he makes when he sees the empty ice cream cartons in the rubbish bin. “So, what, you’re a fourteen year old girl who just got dumped, Lou?” Louis hits him across his expertly sculpted quiff and Zayn smirks but says nothing else.)

-

Louis is trying on his new dress shoes for James’ work party when he finds himself being groped from behind. It is his husband after all, so maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed when their eyes meet. "Mm, you look good baby," James purrs as he grips onto Louis’ hip possessively and cups Louis' ass in the other, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

Louis plasters a wide smile on his lips and ignores the stabbing accusations that threaten to spill from his mouth, instead pushing his hips back into his husband as he straightens back up. "Thanks, baby," he murmurs.

Sometimes, he wishes his husband were someone else.

 Louis clears his throat and tries to push all the stupid, irrational thoughts away, rolling his neck back to rest his head on James' shoulder. "What's this thing for, then?" he murmurs, hand reaching up to lace through James' hair with a tentative smile.

James shrugs, sliding his hand up to cradle the curve of Louis' stomach. "Just had some leftover alcohol from Christian's leaving 'do, so, thought it would be cool to have a party for the company, babe," James explains in between kisses to the length of Louis' neck.

Louis lets out a soft huff of breath when James nips at the curve of his shoulder and turns his head to look at the clock on the wall. "Honey, we should get going," Louis prompts and as expected, James is cursing, gone as quickly as he was present, as he moves to find his bowtie.

Louis rolls his eyes, albeit fondly, and pockets his phone, leaning against the wall as he waits for his husband to get his shit together. Once James is ready, his grin bright and eyes bright as he strides towards Louis, pulling him into his side. Louis giggles, pressing his nose into James' neck with a gentle smile.

"Ready, darling?" Louis teases, looking up into James' eyes with a small smile.

James nods, squeezing Louis' ass once greedily before leading him outside to the limo. "Born ready, baby."

James says the same thing every time.

-

The limo pulls away from the couple standing in the brisk cold and the November lights flicker over Louis' wedding band as he burrows himself closer into James' body for a better chance of getting warm.

The building in front of them is huge, beautiful arches forming the entrance and smooth marble pillars framing the large glass doors. A group of smokers are huddled outside the building, laughing loudly (obviously already inebriated from the free booze) and pretty golden lights line the framework of the high windows.

"Pretty," Louis breathes out as James shrugs, indifferent.

"It's just architecture, love," James laughs, nodding his head to the group of drunk smokers as he leads their way into the building.

"Mm, lovely architecture," Louis hums, following James' lead as he presses himself close to James' side once they reach the bar. James snorts softly, flagging down two glasses of wine for them both before he turns to face his husband.

"Lovely architecture?" James questions as Louis sips at the choice of red wine, humming happily at the exquisite taste. Louis nods.

James smirks, his handsome features turning cheeky as he leans in to seal their lips together. Louis makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, small hands on James' shoulders. They both taste of expensive wine and Louis is hyper aware of how everyone around them stares at them in half-awe (Yes! Married Couples _do_  still kiss - in public!), half disgust at their blatant PDA. James nips softly at Louis' bottom lip, making the younger boy whine at the back of his throat. They haven't kissed like this - haven't really _been_  like this - in so long and it surprises Louis when James sucks on Louis' bottom lip, pulling back with an audible 'pop'.

Louis' ass is squeezed again by James' greedy hands, making him squeak, when James drops his voice and grins at Louis. " _Lovely_  architecture!"

Louis' mouth drops open in surprise before he's laughing loudly, shoulders shaking as he covers his mouth with both hands to quiet himself.

"You dick!" he laughs, kissing James firmly on the mouth. "Stop _grinning_ , fuck!"

His husband grins harder and shrugs, drinking more wine as he looks down at Louis with amusement in his brown eyes. Louis snorts and rolls his eyes, licking a bead of wine from James' bottom lip cheekily.

Louis doesn't notice green eyes on his curved back as he jokes with his husband.

-

Later, Louis is dancing with his husband, laughing drunkenly into James' shoulder when he bumps shoulders with someone else. He giggles louder, turning around to apologise when the words die on his tongue at the sight of Harry Styles staring back at him impassively, yet amused.

"Harry!" Louis squeaks before he collects himself, smiling sweetly. " _So sorry_ ," he bites his lip and forces himself to stay close to his husband's side instead of falling to his knees in front of Harry Styles.

Harry smiles softly and Louis nearly stops breathing. Harry looks - to be blunt - like shit. Dull, tired eyes and a worn smile with his hair in a disarray. But at the same time, he’s still so breathtakingly beautiful, shy dimples appearing on his face and long fingers decorated with expensive rings, eyelashes long and casting shadows over his flushed cheeks. Louis hates him.

"Styles?" Louis faintly hears the sound of James' voice and it's enough to knock Louis out of his stupor. James' hand plants more firmly on Louis' waist as if staking a claim, as if he can sense that he needs to. Fuck, if only he knew. "You know my Lou?"

Louis blushes and quickly cuts in. "Uh, yeah, babe! His sister works for my mum and Harry's visited the office downtown a bit." He lies easily, stroking James' hand with his own as if soothing a wild animal.

James makes a soft sound and nods. "Alright..." he drawls, extending his hand to shake Harry's hand in greeting. Business first. Business, business, business.

The test of testosterone is almost palpable in the air as Louis watches the interaction with wide, relaxed eyes as his two men shake hands. It's only when Harry's hand returns to wrap around a slim waist that Louis notices belongs to a guest. A skinny, blonde guest that has a manicured hand plastered to Harry's exposed chest.

Anger and jealousy - raw, ugly emotion - claws at the back of his throat and Louis has to physically force a polite smile onto his face, ignoring the possessive hand of his husband on his waist.

If Harry had taken Louis’ breath away before, the dilemma only multiplies tenfold as he takes in the sight of Harry wrapping an arm around his female guest. Why not? She's pretty and blonde and skinny and blue eyed and female, for crying out loud, and then she's whispering something into Harry's ear that makes him nod and excuse the pair of them. Just like that.

“Nice to meet you, James. Louis.” The way Harry says his name is something foreign and intimate and beautiful and Louis kind of, really wants to die. It’s almost too private, the way his tongue curls around the spoken letters, as if they need a separate room to make room for the heavy expectation and connotation.

All Louis can do is watch Harry leave whilst James makes jokes into Louis' ear, swaying them to a far away beat. They dance for over an hour, Louis' back to James' chest, and it's another twenty minutes after that when Louis finally spots the familiar head of curls moving through the crowd and disappearing into a room through a large wooden door.

Louis leans back, excuses himself with the pretence of encouraging his husband to go mingle before he, too, slips through the crowd to follow Harry.

The interior of the hidden room has the same structure as the rest of the building, smooth arches and gentle tones of brown and gold with a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Of course, there's more furniture in here - an armchair resting by the open fireplace, an expensive looking futon underneath the window and a large desk facing the wall with scattered pieces of paper.

The fact that Harry Styles stands in the middle of the room, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion at Louis' presence makes the room all that more stunning. His hair is a mess, his shirt unbuttoned (nothing unusual) and lips bitten bright pink.

"Louis?"

Louis slaps him and shoves Harry into a wall.

Harry groans at the hard shove and immediately grabs ahold of Louis' wrists, switching the situation so that it's Louis pinned to the wall. Louis tries to ignore the sudden wave of heat coursing through his body that he hasn’t felt in, well, weeks, and he instead focuses on knitting his eyebrows together so that he can at least pretend that he’s not happy about their current situation.

"What the _hell_ , Louis?" Harry growls softly, eyes searching Louis' as he desperately ventures an answer. Louis presses his lips together, eyes defiant and strong despite the aching of his heart in his chest. Too much champagne, he tells himself. He always drinks too much champagne at James’ stupid work functions.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" he finally hisses after heated silence follows, wriggling under Harry's weight before sighing heavily and stopping, his body slumping against the wall.

Harry barks out a laugh and raises his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You brought a _girlfriend_ , Harry!"

Several unreadable emotions flicker across Harry's face before he licks his lips and answers. Louis tries to keep his gaze off Harry's wet bottom lip. He doesn’t succeed.

"I'm bisexual, Louis, get over it. Besides. You're with your husband," Harry murmurs lowly.

If Louis could raise his hands, he'd smack Harry's stupidly beautiful face.

"It's _his_  work function, you fucking ass!" he growls and pushes Harry off him. It’s simply through pure luck that Harry was caught off guard, giving Louis the opportunity to send him a few feet back. Both men stand feet apart, breathing heavily through frustration and it's the only sound in the quiet room, the laughter and delicate tinkling music of the party on the other side of the door a mere memory.

"It's my property that he's using!" Harry snaps, fists balled up at his sides as his cheeks colour with frustration.

Neither of them say anything more, not for what feels like forever, as if fear is sealing their tongues to the bottom of their mouths. Finally, Louis looks up and frowns again. "Does she suck cock better than I do?" he whispers as he walks forward to close the distance, pressing their chests together. "Huh?"

Harry's cheeks are bright red and his lips parted as he stares down at Louis with a million emotions mulling in his irises. "N-oh!" He begins before cutting off on a gasp when Louis squeezes his cock through his slacks.

Smirking and with one goal set in his mind, Louis pushes Harry further backward until Harry has no choice other than to sprawl down on the expensive armchair situated next to the big fireplace. Louis sinks to his knees and watches in amusement as Harry's fists clench harder until his knuckles turn white where they rest on his thighs and how Harry's breath catches in his throat. Louis shuffles in between Harry's spread thighs and places his mouth over Harry's crotch, blowing out hot air over the material, forcing Harry to whine and shift in his seat.

“That’s what you were just doing, wasn’t it, Haz? She dragged you off for a nice _blowie_ ,” he pauses to bite down on the inside of Harry’s thighs through his dark slacks. Harry whimpers, shifting in the seat but making no further movement to get away from Louis’ mouth. “as a nice little thank you for taking her out, and showing her _off_ in front of all your work _pals_.”

Louis unbuttons Harry’s pants and slides them down Harry’s legs until they’re pooling at his ankles as he talks with envy and frustration heavy in his voice. His eyes flick up at he finally drags Harry’s boxers down his thighs to release his hard cock and Louis watches in interest as Harry whines but otherwise stays still, his white teeth digging harshly into the pink flesh of his bottom lip. The submissive state that Harry is in should not be as sexy as it is.

Louis bites his lip and swallows back words that want to escape from his mouth before he wraps his dainty hand around Harry’s cock and flattens his tongue over the red head. Harry curses loudly and shoots his hands out to grab onto the arms of the chair.

Smirking deeply, Louis breaths out hot air against Harry’s cock, his eyelashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones as he concentrates before he finally fits his mouth around Harry’s cock and sucks, sucks hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. He’s rewarded with a guttural moan from Harry and a loud curse.

Louis pulls back and tells Harry to hold onto his hair before he goes back down, humming happily at the weight of Harry’s cock on his tongue. Whining, Harry does as he’s told and Louis’ hums only increase in delight when he feels the pressure on his scalp as Harry tugs Louis’ feathery hair slightly.

Louis loves to suck cock. He loves the weight on his tongue, the strain on his jaw and he especially loves to feel his partner’s thighs flex and tremble under his hands as he blows them magnificently. Louis is a god damn artist.

Soon enough, Louis is able to relax his throat further and take Harry all the way down, his throat muscles fluttering around Harry’s girth as his nose brushes against Harry’s abdomen. “ _Lou_ ” Harry gasps out loud, his cheeks bright red and mouth slack with awe as he stares down at the beauty in between his thighs. “I’m gonna-” he warns before he comes down Louis’ throat with a hiss through his teeth. Louis quickly swallows Harry’s come down his throat, swiping his tongue over Harry’s cock to clean him up as Harry breathes out raggedly, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh my god,” Harry pants raggedly, staring at Louis in disbelief. Louis smirks, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his lips as he clambers up on his feet. He leans over, connecting their lips together, revelling in the way that Harry moans gratefully and grabs him by the hips.

“You’re so...” Harry murmurs against Louis’ mouth.

Louis hums, squeezing Harry’s shoulders and pulling back with a peck to Harry’s swollen mouth. “Fucking good?” he supplies with a giggle. Harry joins in, laughing breathlessly as he watches Louis in disbelief.

“Fucking good,” he repeats, eyes full of awe.

Louis ignores the butterflies that inhabit his stomach whenever Harry looks at him like _that_  and clears his throat, instead sliding his hands down to rest his palms over Harry’s chest. Harry’s hands squeeze over the curve of Louis’ ass as his pouty mouth drags hot kisses down Louis’ neck and Louis gasps, rolling his hips back with a whine.

"Tell you what, Haz," Louis pants against Harry's ear as he quickly unbuttons Harry's shirt with dainty fingers, eagerness setting him alight. "I'm gonna ride the fuck out of your cock now and then we're gonna go back out there. I'm gonna go to my husband with your bruises on my hips and you're gonna go back to your date - your skinny, _blonde_  date - and smile prettily like you don't still have the taste of me on your tongue. Got it?”

“G-got it,” Harry chokes out, eyes wide before he surrenders with a moan, Louis’ mouth placed upon his again.

It’s a rush to get Louis undressed, hands tugging and pulling at material, Louis’ feet flying out as he kicks his shoes off before climbing back into Harry’s lap with a grin. Harry is the only one with any remnants of clothing on, his pants pooled at his ankles and his shirt gaping open to reveal his inked chest and stomach, his suit jacket hanging off his shoulders. It sends a wave of unknown emotions run through Louis’ body as he guides Harry’s hand to his bare hole.

“Wanna open me up?” he pants quietly, mouthing at Harry’s collarbones before pulling back up. “Do you have stuff?” he murmurs, only a hint of accusation hidden in his voice.

Harry blushes and nods, pulling out a packet from the inside of his jacket and Louis isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. He settles for saying nothing and grabs Harry’s hand. Louis rips the packet open with his teeth and squeezes the substance down onto Harry’s fingers before guiding Harry’s hand back to his hole.

Louis presses his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and presses a soft kiss to the skin before regretting it a second later.

“Whenever you’re ready, Harry,” he teases gently, ignoring the way his voice shakes. He puts it down to how hard he is, his cock pressed up against Harry’s abdomen.

Harry laughs breathlessly and nods, rubbing his slick fingers over Louis’ hole to prep him before easily sliding into Louis’ heat. Louis whines loudly, and pushes his hips back. “Good boy,” he pants, rolling his hips down onto Harry’s fingers as Harry slowly opens him up with slow, long strokes to his inner walls before he spreads his fingers in a V formation. Louis moans loudly and nods, shivering when he feels lube trickle slowly down his thigh.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he murmurs, pulling back with flushed cheeks and batting Harry’s hand. Louis bites his lip and catches Harry’s eyes as he grabs a hold of Harry’s cock. “What?” he whispers, blushing roughly at the intense gaze.

“You’re beautiful, is all,” Harry murmurs, cupping Louis’ hips in his hands as Louis finally sinks down. Both pairs of eyes close and Harry breaths out shakily, his pink lips quirking up at the breathy “fuck off” Louis releases.

Both men pant into the air, touching and pulling each other impossibly closer as Louis adjusts the size. Harry’s hands are dominant on Louis’ hips, small bruises already forming from the desperate grip he has on the boy in his lap whilst Louis can’t stop his mouth from latching onto Harry’s throat and sucking in harsh bruises to the pale skin.

Finally, Louis pulls back and lifts himself up before sinking back down onto Harry’s cock until he bottoms out with a whimper. Harry’s hands remain solid and desperate on Louis’ hips as Louis slowly works himself on Harry’s cock. Harry is helpless to Louis’ demands and personal needs and he knows it. Truth be told, he couldn’t be happier.

Louis rocks down on Harry’s cock, grabbing the tips of Harry’s curls as he moves his hips to the side and Harry slides in deeper at a different angle. “Oh god,” he gasps, arching his back to get the same spot again. Harry bites his lip, dragging his awed gaze down over Louis’ writhing body as he squeezes Louis’ hips in his large hands.

"Fuck baby," Harry pants, his white teeth grazing over the pulse point in Louis' immaculate neck as he lets Louis take charge. "Look so fucking hot" he moaned. "Anyone could walk in on us, right now, you know that? They could walk in and find my pretty little slut in my lap, desperate and eager for me. That's all you are, huh?"

Louis whimpers, his feeble hands shaking as he clutches onto Harry's large biceps. Tears spring to his eyes and it only makes him go faster, harder, his thighs burning with each bounce on Harry's cock.

It’s quick - too quick for Harry’s liking - once Louis is able to find his prostate and begins to ride him faster, and harder with the chair creaking underneath their writhing bodies. It’s not until Louis’ thighs are shaking and he can’t move anymore to get himself anymore that they both get the opportunity to breathe . Louis whines and tugs harshly at Harry’s curls, begging for Harry to fuck him properly.

Harry takes pity on both of them and presses a hard kiss to Louis’ mouth - both to silence him and out of pure desire and selfishness - before he thrusts up into Louis’ tight heat with a loud groan hidden into the flesh of Louis’ bottom lip.

It takes a few more perfectly angled thrusts before both of them fall apart, collapsing back into the chair, Louis’ body bowed as he plasters himself to Harry’s chest, breathing out harshly. Harry’s hands come up to stroke Louis’ back and hair, pressing lazy kisses to Louis’ temple and cheeks.

Louis doesn’t have the heart to move or even remotely consider that decision until Harry murmurs, “you’re truly beautiful, Lou.” He quickly dresses himself, smiling shyly when he catches Harry’s eye as he buttons his shirt again and tries to locate his shoes.

Once he’s ready and not looking like he’s just been fucked, he turns around only to collide into Harry’s chest and dragged into a kiss with Harry’s hand on the back of his neck. Louis melts into it, a stupid subconscious part of him allowing him to have this moment for himself.

“I haven’t fucked my husband since I met you, by the way” he lies against Harry’s mouth. Harry makes a sound of pleasure at the back of his throat and drags Louis closer as if to deepen the kiss and make up for the time they lost together. But then Louis pulls back and swipes his thumb over his wedding band before he leaves the room leaves the room, a gentle limp to his walk as he returns to his husband’s side, complaining quietly about sore feet and tired eyes.

Harry goes back to the party ten minutes later and flits over to the bar, downing three shots in a row. He doesn’t return to his female guest. In fact, said female guest is nowhere to be found. Which makes sense, considering how she left after confronting Harry in the room where Harry has just fucked Louis, after she’d seen the way that he’d been staring at Louis all night.

Louis keeps his eyes away from Harry the best he can all night until James squeezes money into his hand for a cab ride home.

 

 //

 

Louis is drunk. Wonderfully, unbelievably drunk, for some reason unbeknownst to him. (Although maybe the unending rows of tequila shots may have something to do with it). He is drunk and unbalanced and banging on Harry's front door loudly, all reason and practicality dripping out his body with each hit to the wooden door. His knuckles hurt. Fuck James for leaving Louis with a cupboard full of alcohol whilst he disappears away on a camping trip with “the guys”. Fuck.

He frowns darkly to himself, insecurity and paranoia poisoning his veins as the reality of Harry not being home or not wanting to let Louis in hits him. What if Harry doesn't want him anymore? What if Harry is with _someone else_? It's not like Louis could be pissed off considering he's with someone else, himself, but still... the thought of Harry with someone else makes unwelcome emotions bubble in his system.

Suddenly, the door opens and Louis trips at the immediate lack of resistance, stumbling to only fall to his knees. " _Fuck_ " he whines, frowning as he rubs his sore knees and lifts his chin to shoot out a drunken insult towards Harry when his eyes meet the form of... a woman?

Why is there a woman in Harry’s house?

“Shit!” he curses aloud, his brain-to-mouth filter malfunctioning.

She's tall, lilac hair pushed off her shoulders and a disgruntled frown on her pristine features as she gazes down at Louis with her eyebrows knitted together that only makes Louis ache for Harry because that's _such_  a Harry-thing. So are the faint hint of dimples that accompany her quiet, amused smile. Huh. She crosses her arms across her chest and clears her throat, waiting for Louis to stand up. He quickly does so, alcohol and embarrassment turning his cheeks bright red.

"Who are you?" Louis blatantly asks and he frowns, fixing his fringe with shaky fingers as the cold wind rattles his bones. The wind messes his fringe up as soon as his fingers drop to his sides again and he pouts on Harry’s door step, cursing any and every deity available for his misfortunes. Is it _so hard_  to ask for a calm, breeze-free evening? He’s drunk, damn it!

"I'd love to ask you the same thing," she retorts and Louis pouts again, waiting for the answer to his question as he leans into the door frame heavily. Those tequila shots were _not_  the best idea.

The pretty woman rolls her eyes and holds out her hand out to steady Louis by his shoulder. "I'm Gemma, Harry's sister...." she trails off and pulls Louis into the hallway, closing the door behind them. The cold disappears, warmth replacing the air in its absence and Louis brightens by a fraction. Warmth is good. "And you are a friend of Harry's I assume? Friend being a flexible word, of course," she smirks, a dimple deepening in her left cheek. How the fuck didn't he catch the familiar family traits earlier?

He clears his throat, stepping further into the house and scanning the living room. "Um... w-where is he, do you know?" he asks nervously.

“He’s in a hotel downtown, having dinner with clients. A work thing.”

“Oh..” That’ll explain why Harry couldn’t pick up his call.

Gemma smiles softly, scanning Louis' dishevelled state. "C'mere," she says as she tugs Louis into the kitchen with a gentle hold on his wrist. He goes easily, too drunk and too sad to resist the pull. They both clamber onto kitchen stools whilst the kettle boils and Louis has his head ducked, waiting for judgement to be flung at his pounding head.

"So," she begins and Louis lifts his head, nervously wringing his hands together. "can I ask your second name? Or is that top secret too? I mean, besides the fact that you’re sleeping with my brother on the side." she says, eyeing the wedding band on Louis’ finger.

Louis flushes and bites his lip, feeling extremely small and drunk and sad under Gemma’s condescending tone. "Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson," he mumbles, graciously taking the offered mug of tea from Gemma’s hands. It's not a lie, exactly. He was Louis Tomlinson, once upon a time.

Gemma hums, perching herself on the counter as she looks down at Louis from over the rim of the mug.  “Tomlinson,” she says. “Tomlinson Inc.? That company that makes budget clothing for low income families... your mum runs it?”

Louis nods and Gemma smiles.

“Nice company.” she notes and Louis nods again, blowing over the hot liquid before pushing it away to let it cool.

There’s silence for a while, just the presence of Louis slurping quietly at his tea whilst Gemma judges him without hesitation and without preamble. Gemma is blatant and open and no nonsense. Louis thinks that maybe he would like her if she wasn’t watching him like a fucking hawk.

Gemma is the one to break the silence when she clears her throat. Louis hums to let her know he’s listening, draining the rest of his tea and putting the empty mug to the side, unsure as to what Gemma wants from him. Gemma decides for him as she continues.

“So. You’re heavily drunk at half eight on a Thursday night and just decided to come banging on my brother’s door. You’re married. And you’re fucking my brother.”

Louis is extremely thankful he has no tea that he can choke on.

“Uhh…”

“Admit it,” Gemma says and when Louis lifts his gaze from Gemma’s painted toenails to Gemma’s bright, amused grin, he slightly relaxes. At least someone is finding the whole ordeal a little bit hilarious.

Louis nods and bites his lip nervously. “Me and your brother may have a… thing. Going on. Um… why are you here?” he asks, trying to divert the attention away from his pathetic state.

Gemma laughs. “Needed a night away from the kids, so their dad has them tonight. Harry’s a star and let me stay the night.” Gemma smirks and she watches Louis for a moment or two before she sighs, and tugs Louis up to his feet. “C’mon. You can take Harry’s bed. You’re pissed and obviously in no state to be interrogated at this moment. I’m sure Harry won’t mind.”

Louis blushes and makes no further objections, only blindly follows Gemma into her brother’s bedroom. Gemma turns the light on and pulls back the bedsheets back for Louis to climb into the bed. Whilst he does that, she disappears only to return with a glass of water and some aspirin and places it on the bedside table. The hospitality is unwavering, and she’s definitely Harry’s sister.

Before stepping away from the bed, Gemma frowns and puts her hands on her hips. “You’re not gonna throw up are you? Because I am _not_ cleaning that shit up, let me tell you.”

Louis whines in embarrassment, and turns his head away with a loud sigh, pushing his face into the pillow that smells of Harry’s shampoo. “I don’t puke when I’m drunk. Harry takes care of me.”

“Right. Go to sleep, sunshine,” Gemma says but Louis is already dropping off, snoring softly as he hugs Harry’s pillow to his chest.

-

Louis wakes up in the morning with a pounding headache that makes him whimper and clutch the bedsheets higher over his head to make the soreness stop. It doesn’t work obviously.

He feels a dip in the mattress and he frowns, whining again when the bedsheets are forcibly pulled away from his hands to expose his face to the coolness of the room. It makes him whimper and squint at the figure that is perched on the edge of the bed. Slowly, Louis opens his eyes and blushes furiously when he recognises the familiar head of curls and curved pink lips.

Oh _God_. Louis would just really love for the ground to just swallow him the fuck up. Right now, preferably. He feels unbelievably embarrassed about his drunkenness from last night and he wants to curl up into a ball and never move again.

But Harry is sat there and watching him expectedly so Louis forces himself to sit up, biting back another whine. “Haz?”

“Drink this. And take this.” Harry commands, voice low and careful as he offers the aspirin and the glass of water to Louis. Blushing, Louis nods and does what he’s told, swallowing the aspirin and downing the glass of water hungrily. He puts the empty glass down on the bedside table and bites his lip, reluctantly looking up at Harry as he tucks his knees under his chin. 

Neither of them says anything else for a while, the pair just watching the other for some kind of hint or clue as to what the hell kind of situation they’ve been dragged into right now. It’s a fair reaction, Louis would say. Although, he’s definitely more to blame with the fact that he’s the one that turned up drunk on Harry’s doorstep only to be dragged to Harry’s bed so that he wouldn’t pass out on his kitchen floor.

“Why are you h-“ Harry begins but Louis doesn’t want to talk. He doesn’t want to talk about how stupid he is.

Instead, Louis’ hands reach up and tug on the metal of the pendant that hangs loosely around Harry’s neck so that he can fit their mouths together, drowning out any sounds of “good morning” that Harry might have been trying to choke out in between Louis’ impatience. Harry makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, sliding one hand to cup the edge of Louis’ jaw as they kiss with more purpose.

It’s only when they hear an amused cough from the doorway that they reluctantly part from the kiss and Louis whines gently into Harry’s neck, his fingers playing with the curls at the back of his lover’s neck just so they have an excuse to be that inch closer.

“Your sister hates me,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s neck and feels the vibrations of Harry’s scoff against his mouth.

“She loves you,” Harry contradicts and links their fingers together, holding their hands to his chest. It’s oddly calming – not even odd. It’s just odd how much Louis enjoys the feeling of Harry’s heartbeat underneath his fingertips.

“Honey,” Louis rolls his eyes “Love is different to hate. Do you even know what love is?” he giggles and only stops when he catches an odd look in Harry’s eyes that makes him catch his breath and his lips part on an empty sound.

It seems like an eternity before Harry speaks again.

“I know about love,” he murmurs and straightens back up with a blush, turning to Gemma. “Can I help you, asshole?”

Louis has to hold back a giggle, his cheeks bright red as he manoeuvres himself to sit upright in the bed, the bedsheets pooling around his hips as he watches the exchange. Gemma snorts and rolls her eyes – Louis likes her – and beckons Harry towards her with a crooked index finger and a semi-serious expression on her face. Louis cringes inside.

Harry watches Gemma for a moment before he nods, turning back to Louis to drop a kiss onto Louis’ mouth with a murmur of “be right back” before he follows Gemma out the room and into the hallway. Louis tries to relax in Harry’s bed, taking the chance to sink further into the soft mattress as he waits for Harry’s return and honestly, it’s not _his_ fault they’re talking so loud. He’s not eavesdropping. Honest.

Louis can’t really catch much of the conversation anyway, not without moving and pressing his ear to the door like he’s a part of some fucking spy movie, so he lets himself stay in bed and just tries to hear as best as he can. The best he can, it turns out, is Gemma’s hushed, worried tones about Harry’s wellbeing and the consequences of being with the “town bike that just happens to have a ring on his finger”. That part makes Louis’ stomach twist uncomfortably and he blushes roughly in shame until he hears Harry’s retorted command for Gemma to “shut the fuck up. You don’t know him.” Louis’ fingers curl around the pillow in time for Gemma to scoff and ask seriously, “you do?” Harry waits before he replies an affirmative answer and Louis wants to cry, but he also wants to kiss the fuck out of Harry. Maybe ride him a bit.

He needs to fucking get over himself, Jesus Christ.

Gemma’s voice rises in indignation. “You _know_ him?! Harry you- he’s your fuck buddy!”

Louis can almost feel the clench of Harry’s jaw under his palm when Harry hisses back, “he’s more than that! He’s beautiful and smart and stuck in a shitty marriage, yeah, but he’s more than a body to fall asleep next to! He’s…. I like him, Gem.” Louis is imagining the way Harry’s voice cracks at the end, of course he is. It’s so silent for a few moments that even Louis’ own breathing is insanely loud for his own ears.

“Okay,” Gemma finally says, dropping her tone and Louis hears Harry’s sigh of relief. “Just want my baby brother to be happy, alright? This just- this isn’t healthy, Haz.”

Louis can hear Harry make a strangled noise at the back of his throat and he thanks Gemma quietly. Then, footsteps become closer to the threshold of the bedroom door and Louis scrambles for his phone so he can at least _pretend_ that he wasn’t listening in on everything. Although, the bright red blush on his cheeks may contest otherwise.

Harry is smiling sheepishly when he re-enters the room and nervously plays with the rings on his fingers. Louis smiles shyly, shuffling to the other side of the bed and patting a spot next to him for Harry which Harry eagerly takes, pulling Louis into his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of Louis’ head. They stay like that for a few minutes, Louis’ small fingers digging into the exposed flesh of Harry’s biceps and Harry’s long fingers dragging through Louis’ hair gently. It’s incredibly soothing and Louis has to physically stop himself from purring.

“How much did you hear?” Harry finally murmurs, curving his hand around Louis’ hip. Louis blushes and shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you-“

“Louis.”

“Where’s Gemma? Did she go home?” Louis asks, trying to divert the conversation.

“Yes, she- _Louis_.”

Harry’s voice goes stern and Louis presses his lips together for a few moments before he pulls his head back from the spot nestled against Harry’s neck. He puts a hand to Harry’s cheek and pulls him down into an easy kiss. “I like you too.”

The larger man makes a soft sound at the back of his throat and pulls back from the kiss, looking down at Louis with a million different emotions mixing around in his green eyes. It’s heavy.

“We need to talk,” Harry murmurs and Louis frowns, shaking his head, ready to shoot back with a counterargument as to why that would be the worst thing in the world but Harry cuts him off. “I more than like you.”

No. No, no, no. This is not happening. This will not- this _can’t_  be happening. Fucking _more than like you_. Harry is messing with him. Of course he is.

So Louis laughs, shaking his head and looking at Harry with wide eyes. “You can’t… Haz, you’re not _serious_ , c’mon…”

“You feel the same. I… I k-know you do.” Harry insists, his eyes wide and full of want. He looks like an innocent child and Louis just wants to cuddle him to his chest, run his fingers through his soft curls and never let anyone or anything hurt him. It’s difficult when it’s Louis that is evidently hurting him, however.

“Haz-“

“T-tell me you feel the same,” Harry begs and Louis shakes his head slowly.

“Baby, I… I c-can’t. I’m… I really like you. Okay? I do. I _really_ like you. And that’s…. that’s just gonna have to be enough for now okay? Please.” Louis begs, trying to hold back tears at the fucking _heartbroken_ look in Harry’s eyes. It kills him, the fact that he’s the source of Harry’s pain at this precise moment but he can’t.

“Maybe I should go…” Louis murmurs and tries to slink away from Harry’s touch but Harry shakes his head, catching Louis’ wrists in a gentle but commanding grip.

“N-no. Please. Stay.”

“Haz-“ Louis shakes his head and looks up just in time for Harry to press their lips together. Louis sighs contentedly into the kiss and slides his hands up into Harry’s hair to pull him down into the kiss at a deeper angle, to be rewarded with the quiet sound that Harry makes at the back of his throat.

The kiss turns dirty quickly, the effects of their separation becoming evident as Harry moves to pin Louis down into the mattress, his tongue smoothly licking into Louis’ mouth and making the married man keen into his mouth with a breathy whine.

“Harry, please,” Louis gasps as Harry moves his attention to mouth at the sensitive flesh of Louis’ neck before he resurfaces to nip lightly at the pillow of Louis’ bottom lip.

“Stay” Harry whispers, smoothing his hands over Louis’ hips over the bedsheets and Louis keens, nodding.

“O-okay.  I-okay.”

Harry’s answering grin is blinding and the kiss Louis is rewarded with is heavy and sweet and perfect all at the same time. Louis feels like his body is on fire, like he hasn’t been touched in years.

They end up spending the rest of the day watching films in Harry’s bedroom, although they admittedly spent most of the time kissing and touching each other. Louis comes three times before they’re half way through watching Thor. Harry makes him amazing pasta in some kind of white sauce for lunch and happily carries him back to bed where they continue to watch the rest of Louis’ favourite films (which he had thankfully left at Harry’s a couple of times over the past month) throughout the day. Until Louis has to get dressed and return home in time for James returning from his camping trip with his friends, that is.

His marital home feels much colder than Harry’s home when Louis steps through the front door and Louis refuses to admit it but, honestly, being with Harry feels like home. More home than his own, actual home. That’s not right, is it?

 

//

 

 

Louis loves the springtime because it means that on his way to his husband’s office, he can take a stroll through the park without being dressed like a mummy with several layers of clothing. It also means that James is less likely to cancel their lunch dates because work seems to go slower for him in the spring months.

Today, James has promised Louis that under no circumstances would he cancel their lunch date and the daffodils have just started flourishing in the park so Louis is in an extraordinarily good mood when he arrives at James’ work building.

Amy, his receptionist greets Louis cheerfully from her desk as he makes his way around and Louis smiles back happily at her, a spring in his step that he can’t quite understand. Mondays shouldn’t be this exciting.

The man is sat outside his husband’s office, playing with the gold wedding band on his finger when his head jerks up at the sudden sound of doors slamming open and an array of angry voices filtering through into the floor space and disrupting the tranquillity of the atmosphere.

“You know what, Styles? You’re really something fucking else!” Louis hears James’ voice burst through the air and Louis’ eyes finally land on his husband standing opposite Harry, whose fists are clenched at his sides, his jaw clenched tight whilst a dirty, playful smirk is painted across his pink lips.

“Worried that I’m fucking right and that your company is gonna go bust in a month, Nicholson?” Harry’s voice taunts back.

Louis stands up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process as he runs over to his husband who looks like he really wants to punch the fuck out of Harry. Not good.

“Baby! Hey! James, darling? I’m here for lunch! Why don’t we just… go to lunch? No need to fight, is there?” Louis cuts in quickly, placing a comforting hand on his husband’s bicep. Louis sighs out in relief when James visibly relaxes under the touch.

Louis can feel Harry’s gaze on him, knows that Harry hates seeing his hand on his husband.

“Got your husband to fight your battles now, _James_?” Harry asks coldly.

Louis flinches like he’s been slapped. “Sta-“ he stops himself immediately from calling Harry his pet name in public, in front of his husband before he quickly recovers. “Styles. I think you should just leave. My husband is a very busy man.”

James’ hand lands down on Louis’ ass and his dirty businessman smirk returns to his face. “Amy,” he calls. “Please escort Mr. Styles out.”

Harry’s jaw clenches visibly as his eyes track the movement of James’ hand running over Louis’ ass. “I’m going,” he murmurs gruffly, and if it weren’t for his husband’s sudden lips covering his own, Louis probably would’ve watched Harry punch a wall on his way out.

When he and his husband separate, James laughs and shakes his head. “Fucking asshole. How do guys like that sleep at night, huh?”

Louis bites back the remark of “with me” and instead smiles sweetly at his husband as James collects his things and leads Louis out into the city air to go to James’ favourite restaurant.

Later that evening when he is curled up on the sofa, watching reruns of old cooking shows whilst James is out at another work function, Louis receives a text message from Harry to tell him to meet him in his office at 9pm, sharp. Guilt twists in his stomach as he smiles at the message but for all the wrong reasons.

-

That same night, Louis is in the elevator going up to Harry’s office on the other side of town.

The ride up in the elevator is weird – nerving but also calming to a much higher degree. It’s an actual glass box, meaning that Louis can see the span of the city landscape by just lifting his gaze from his feet and even in these bizarre circumstances (because going to your lover’s workplace whilst your husband is out making more money to benefit you both sure as fuck isn’t normal) Louis can appreciate how beautiful the city is at night.

The elevator reaches the top floor and Louis steps out. The floor is empty and the only clue that there is actually someone existing up here alongside Louis is the soft music filtering through the open door at the end of the hall.

Shaking off his nerves and following his excitement, Louis follows the musical notes and gently closes Harry’s office door behind him with a soft click.

When Harry notices Louis’ presence, his tired eyes light up and he quickly rounds the table to take Louis into his arms, pressing their lips together firmly. Louis’ mouth parts on a quiet gasp and lifts his arms quickly to wrap around Harry’s neck on instinct, melting their bodies together as Harry presses him firmly against the wooden door.

Before the kiss turns dirty, Harry pulls back with a soft hum and a restrained smirk at the pout of Louis’ face. “Hi, love,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over Louis’ cheek as if he could rub away the flush from Louis’ cheeks with a few strokes.

“Hi, star,” Louis whispers back just to see the lightness return to Harry’s eyes. As Harry’s eyes turn brighter with the renewed light of happiness, Louis can’t stop himself from shivering at the tug in his chest.

Harry opens his mouth to apologise for his actions earlier that day before Louis stops him, pressing two fingers to Harry’s mouth and pushing him back a few inches. Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion and Louis pulls his fingers away, instead dragging them through Harry’s long hair.

“You called me down here for a reason, I assume?” he asks sweetly.

Harry nods. “Of course,” he says, putting on his deep businessman voice and making Louis giggle. “I have very serious matters that I need your expert advice on, Mr. Tomlinson.” Louis flushes at the use of his unmarried name, licking his lips.

“Is that so, Mr. Styles?” he plays along, glancing over Harry’s shoulder at the pile of files laying on the floor in a mess. “Would that have anything to do with the mess you’ve left on the floor?” he teases, ducking out of Harry’s grasp and bending down to pick up the files from the floor, trusting that Harry will be watching him.

As a large hand comes down on his ass and another hand comes to curl around Louis’ throat, pulling him upright and pressing him against the desk, Louis knows that he was right in his assumptions.

Louis swallows back the sudden rush of arousal, trying to control his breathing so that he can keep up the act. “Sir!” he calls out before he bursts into giggles.

Harry smirks into the back of his neck and turns Louis around so that their faces are only inches apart. “’Sir’?” he repeats, grinning widely at his lover as he shakes his head.

Louis tilts his head. “Too much?”

Harry rolls his eyes fondly. “Just call me Harry, you’re making this into a porno, babe.”

Louis shakes his head as he tugs Harry down into a bruising kiss. “Not gonna call you Harry” he mumbles against Harry’s mouth and giggles again when Harry makes a surprised sound against Louis’ wet mouth.

“You’re not? Whatever will you call me?” he asks, blinking innocently. “There’s only so many things you could call me without degrading my very-“

“Star.” Louis says, interrupting Harry and smiling shyly as Harry blushes roughly, his mouth hanging open in both shock and awe.

“Star” Harry repeats quietly.

Louis nods.

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the hum of Harry’s computer and the distant sounds of the city touching their bubble. Then Harry reaches around to unclasp his necklace and fastens it around Louis’ neck instead, kissing the tip of Louis’ neck.

Louis’ heart hammers in his chest as his hand flattens over his chest, feeling the metal underneath his palm. He opens his mouth to say something before Harry shushes him, patting his hip.

“Hop up, love,” Harry says lowly, smiling when Louis jumps up onto the desk and pulls Harry in between his thighs by his suit jacket lapels, wrapping his thighs around Harry’s hips.

“You gonna fuck me then, Mr. Big Shot?” Louis murmurs, pushing the jacket off Harry’s broad shoulders and undoing Harry’s tie, adding it to the pile. His fingers work at Harry’s shirt buttons slowly and pulls the material apart to expose Harry’s built torso and tattooed chest.

Louis leans in and presses soft kisses across Harry’s chest, barely brushing his lips over the warm skin before he pulls back to look up at Harry’s face, tilting his chin up to brush their lips together. “Fuck me” he breathes quietly. “C’mon, Star”

Harry moves quickly, undoing Louis’ belt and shoving Louis’ jeans down his thighs and pulls them off to join the growing pile of clothes as Louis pulls his jacket and shirt off so that he’s left naked and writhing underneath Harry’s dark, hot gaze.

Louis wraps his thighs around Harry’s hips again and tugs roughly on Harry’s hair. “Gonna get those long, beautiful fingers in me baby? Make me moan nice and loud for you?” he purrs before he cuts himself with a soft groan as Harry drops to his knees, his velvet mouth making contact with his bare hole.

“Fuck!” Louis cries out, his back arching up off the desk as Harry makes quick work of opening Louis open with his tongue and fingers, each stroke bringing Louis closer and closer to the edge. Louis’ fingers grip tightly to the edges of the desk as he whimpers loudly for Harry, feeling safe in the knowledge that no one else was on the building floor.

It’s only when Louis is moaning and grinding up against Harry’s face that the man pulls away, panting. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and licks teasingly over Louis’ gaping hole before pulling himself up to press their lips together in a hot kiss.

“C-condom,” Louis mumbles shakily, his hands clenching in Harry’s hair as he watches his lover wrap up his cock.

Their eyes meet and as the moon slides through the window to cast pretty shadows across Harry’s muscular body, Louis can’t stop the giggle that escapes his mouth as he shakes his head.

“What?” Harry asks, tentatively. His eyes are soft and fond as they look back at Louis.

“Y-you’re so fucking beautiful, I’m – I’m sorry,” he bites his lip, shaking his head and decides to distract himself by pulling Harry in for a deep kiss. “Sorry sorry… I’m ready. Give me that good loving, Styles,” he teases, still laughing breathlessly.

Swallowing back the three words that are on the tip of his tongue, Harry shakes his head fondly and thrusts into Louis with one swift movement. He smirks as Louis stops laughing, moaning loudly instead.

“Ngh, how are you always so fucking tight?” Harry gasps as he thrusts slowly into Louis, building up a rhythm, their bodies molded together under the moonlight.

“Not my fault you’ve got a huge cock, Styles!” Louis snaps back before he gasps highly when Harry finally hits his spot, his back arching up off the desk again. “There!”

Harry smirks and leans down to lick teasingly into Louis’ mouth as he fucks him with hard, sure thrusts of his hips, his hands pinning Louis’ wrists down to the smooth surface of his desk.

The two lovers come like that, their hands entwined and hips pressed together as Louis comes all over his tummy and Harry empties out his orgasm in the condom, their mouths panting and pressed together.

“Fuck…” Louis murmurs shakily when Harry pulls out and helps clean themselves up. “Nothing but the best for your bit on the side, huh?” he teases.

Harry’s expression closes off as he pulls his slacks back up and fastens his belt, making Louis shut himself up instantly as he shrugs on his coat.

Louis opens his mouth to apologise, his words lost as Harry’s mouth presses to his once again, as if that’s where his lips are meant to be.

“You’re more than a side dish Louis.”

“Harry, c’mon, I didn’t mean-“

“You’re… everything. Okay?”

“Okay.” Louis replies quietly.

“Come home with me?” Harry asks, holding his hand out to help Louis get off his desk and Louis takes his hand without a second of hesitation, smiling shyly.

 

//

 

Louis isn’t entirely sure when it became less about having no-strings-attached sex with Harry and more about spending time with him but now it feels like what they have is something more. God knows they still fuck as often as they did – Harry’s face hasn’t left the space between Louis’ thighs for the past hour – but now they do pillow talk, where Louis learns about his parents and his favourite films and why he hates Nutella, and Louis gets a chance to talk about his dreams of having a big family and why he prefers the moon to the sun.

It’s weird, but at the same time it’s not. It’s like talking endlessly with your best friend for hours, easy like falling. And it is easy. Until Harry starts to ask Louis about leaving James for the second time and then it’s hard, like wading through thick, stubborn water.

"Harry, just- let it _go_ , alright? I'm married and I'm with a good man and he cares for me and... we shouldn't have done what we did," Louis breathes out shakily, running a hand through his hair as he turns his pleading, baby blue eyes on his lover. “We still shouldn’t be doing it, technically but I…” He pushes Harry’s face away from the spot where his flushed cheek is pressed against Louis’ inner thigh as he moves to sit up against the pillows, his legs crossed. “Please, star."

Neither comment on the way that Louis' voice cracks on the pet name they'd established all those months ago and they certainly make no commentary on how Louis' hands fly to his stomach, as if he can hide himself from Harry. But both men also know that Louis can't hide from Harry.

Harry moves and grabs Louis' hands, bringing them up to hold against his chest. "I'm not letting you go Louis. I did it once and I refuse to do it again," he whispered fiercely, his eyes blazing with a million emotions that both make Louis lose his breath and steady him.

Louis whimpers and turns his head. "Harry, I- I'm married to James..."

Harry shakes his head. "He doesn't _love_  you!" He groans.

Louis snaps his head to look at Harry with a fiercely passionate look in his eyes. "Oh, and you do?" he retorts on a laugh, beginning to pull away when Harry stops him.

"Yes!"

"W-what?"

"I fucking _love_  you, and I love you way more than he ever could!"

They both go silent from that moment, Harry panting with flushed cheeks and Louis staring back in absolute shock. Their hands are linked together still and Harry doesn't want to let them drop, he doesn't want to let Louis leave; he refuses to let Louis walk out of his life.

"You're- you're... _don't_  lie to me!" Louis cries, hitting Harry's chest.

Harry groans and backs Louis up against the bedframe, leaning over him until their breaths are mingling and their hearts are beating as one. "I love you," Harry repeats, quieter this time. It almost doesn’t sound real to Louis’ ears. "I love you, Louis. I'm in love with you and I refuse to let you go again. These past few months have been the best of my life, did you know that? I love you. I love you, I love you, I -"

For a second, Harry wonders why he's stopped talking - why would he stop confessing his love to Louis?! - but then he realizes that Louis has cut him off and that Louis is _kissing_ him! The man lets out a soft moan against Louis' lips and tugs him closer by the hips as Louis licks and bites down on Harry's plump bottom lip. "Say it again," he begs breathlessly.

"I love you," Harry pants, pulling back to rest his forehead on Louis', looking into his eyes with nothing short of adoration. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Louis laughs breathlessly and tucks his face into the crook of Harry’s neck as he catches his breath, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as if it’s trying to break out, like a bird locked in a cage. He trails his fingertips up and down the expanse of Harry’s back, breathing in Harry’s scent to calm his erratically beating heart.

He should really catch on to the fact that Harry’s body calms his nerves like no other but he’s not ready to contemplate what that really means, yet.

He barely has time to think straight as Harry mouths slowly at the expanse of Louis’ throat, sucking gently just below his pulse, making Louis gasp high in his throat. Harry fucking knows he’s sensitive there and the results show as his body squirms under Harry’s, his cock fattening up against his thigh.

“Harry,” Louis whines breathily, Harry trailing his lips down to nip gently at Louis’ collarbones before soothing the marks with his pink tongue. Louis slides his hands into Harry’s hair, unconsciously spreading his thighs. “Baby, please,” he begs and pulls Harry up by the hair to bring their faces together at eye level. He squashes down the feeling of satisfaction when he sees how Harry’s lips part gently and eyes darken when Louis tugs on his hair, and he smiles softly, caressing Harry’s face in his hands. “I love you t-too.”

“Let me take care of you,” Harry whispers, licking his lips as his large hands slide down to push Louis’ thighs further apart before he freezes, looking up at Louis with wide eyes. “W-what did you just s-say?”

“I said I l-love you. Is that okay?” Louis whispers quietly, slowly stroking Harry’s curls as he nudges their mouths together.

Harry responds instantly, kissing Louis hard and whimpering out shaky admissions of love against Louis’ mouth. He traps Louis’ hands up above Louis’ head and grinds their hips together. “Does that… does that mean I can make love to you now?” he gasps.

Louis moans softly and nods eagerly, guiding Harry’s face back down in between his thighs. “I want your mouth again” Louis mumbles and Harry chuckles, sliding down in between Louis’ thighs. He sucks gently on the rim of Louis’ entrance, making Louis gasp and tighten his hands in Harry’s messy curls.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that,” he moans as Harry licks into him slow and sure, his tongue curling upwards to press against Louis’ prostate, gently caressing the sweet spot with care. The pressure on his prostate makes Louis whimper, his hands curling tight in the bedsheets as his back arches. “Fuck… y-yeah” he whines.

Harry smirks secretly to himself and he repeats the action, his large hands covering Louis’ ass cheeks to pull him further down on his tongue. Harry’s wet, hot mouth is driving Louis’ crazy, leaving him a sweaty, quivering mess as he grinds up against Harry’s face. His hips are pinned down by Harry’s large hands and it makes him moan sinfully, giving a hard tug on Harry’s curls to pull him off and away from his cunt.

“Fuck me,” he begs his lover.

Harry grins and presses his mouth to Louis’, licking into his mouth without preamble. He grinds up against Louis’ ass so that Louis can feel his full hard length against where he wants it most. It makes Louis moan aloud and drag his nails down the expanse of Harry’s back desperately, rutting up against Harry’s hip.

“Fuck me!” he begs again, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as he watches Harry slip a condom onto his hard, red cock. “Harry please, I-“

His pleas are cut off when Harry slides into him, his thick cock stretching him out and making him lose his breath.

“Yes!” he gasps, writhing as he forces himself down on Harry’s cock to take the full length. Harry covers Louis’ hands with his and drives forcefully into his lover, making sure to hit Louis’ prostate on every thrust. Louis is wet and hot and slick and he squeezes deliciously around Harry’s cock in a manner that makes him feel like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Fuck” Harry moans, grabbing one of Louis’ thighs and placing it over his shoulder so that he can drive into Louis at a deeper angle. It makes Louis whimper and beg for “more, harder, harder, harder!” as he arches his back, pushing his chest up against Harry’s.

Harry falters, his hands freezing over Louis’ hands. Louis quickly catches onto Harry’s change of mood and he smiles sweetly, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s and squeezing in reassurance.

“Baby,” he whispers, his voice dropping into seductive octaves. “Fucking me hard like a dirty whore doesn’t mean that you love me any less, okay?” he purrs, cheekily squeezing around Harry’s thick cock.

A growl emanates from Harry’s throat and he forcibly pushes Louis’ hands into the mattress as he changes his pace and begins fucking into Louis in a harder, faster rhythm that leaves Louis breathless and whining, writhing on Harry’s cock as Harry fucks him harder.

“Love… you… so… much…” he rasps out each word in between hard thrusts, ignoring the banging of the headboard against the wall as he kisses his lover filthily.

“Yes, Harry, Hazza, baby, like that!” Louis cries out, buries his bright red face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “Use me” he whimpers. “Use me like the dirty whore I am.”

Harry frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as he nips playfully at Louis’ jaw, watching in interest as a red mark blooms in its wake.  “My… my whore,” he mumbles and grins when Louis agrees breathlessly, nodding, “yours, baby, all yours”.

The possessive streak in Harry takes over and he comes into the condom, panting heavily. But he keeps thrusting into Louis, nailing Louis’ over sensitive prostate until his lover comes, white come streaking his stomach and chest.

“Yours,” Louis whispers again, much quieter this time.

“I love you” Harry murmurs against the shell of Louis’ ear but Louis has already fallen asleep again.  

 

//

 

Being in love with Harry while sleeping in the arms of his husband is harder to do now that Louis has come to the fact that he’s in love with Harry. As James snores into his ear, his tanned arm pinning Louis down into the mattress and the moon slithering over his bare chest, Louis frowns. He can’t do this anymore. Not when Harry is what he needs – a man that loves him, that treasures his ambitions and passions, and kisses him like he’s the center of his world.

The buzzing of his phone alerts him awake and he squints as he stares at the bright screen, his lips curving into a small smile as his eyes flick over the text Harry has sent him. It’s a selfie of Harry in bed, pouting at the camera and the picture is angled to show the other side of the bed – it’s empty and still rumpled from where Louis had taken a nap earlier that day. Biting the inside of his cheek, Louis shifts to look at the caption underneath.

‘ _Not sure who misses you more, me or ur side’_

Louis blushes. His side. Part of Harry’s bed belongs to him. He quickly types back a kissing emoji and decides that he has to end it, his marriage. If he what he and James have can be even be constituted as a marriage anymore. Glancing over at James, Louis nods to himself and closes his eyes, resigned.

Louis sets out to tell him in the morning but Louis wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little bit with disappointment. But he needs to do this without chickening out. Now. Pushing himself out of bed, Louis gets dressed and catches the bus down to James’ office.

Once this is done, he won’t have a car anymore. That’s a sobering thought, the idea that once this is done, Louis won’t have anything. But he will. He’ll have Harry, and he’ll make a new life and become a writer and be in love. Exchanging a dead, convenient marriage for new hope is worth it, without a doubt.

Louis arrives at the building just short of James’ regular lunch hour. He nods lightly at James’ secretary and walks down the hallway towards James’ office when he’s stopped in his tracks at the sound of a low voice calling his name. He turns around and blushes brightly when he sees Harry stood in front of him, dressed in a well-fitting suit and his hair pushed up off his forehead. He looks fucking amazing. Twat.

“What brings you into this neck of the woods?” Louis bites down on a smile at the familiar voice, turning around to look into Harry’s amused eyes as his hands drop down to fit over his tummy.

Harry Styles is stood in front of him, his hair curling down over his forehead and his hands shoved into the pockets of his black dress pants. Louis’ eyes travel gratefully over the expanse of Harry’s chest and throat before sliding up to his lover’s mouth and sparkling eyes.

“Just visiting someone…” Louis says quietly, his voice trailing off. The fact that he’s stood in front of his boyfriend, wanting to kiss him, whilst on a trip to visit his husband in between board meetings is bizarre, if anything.

Harry nods. “He just got out of our meeting ten minutes ago, so he should be free.”

Louis laughs, licking his lips as he leans towards Harry’s body. “It’s weird you know my husband’s schedule better than I do.”

Harry smiles softly, his eyes dropping to Louis’ mouth before returning his gaze to meet Louis’ amused stare. “Whatever, weirdo… So, should I see you tonight?”

Louis hides a giggle, scratching the back of his head as he watches Harry with amusement. “You wanna see me tonight?” He asked sweetly. “Come see my husband with me and if you’re a good actor, you can eat me out on your desk.”

Harry’s eyes light up with excitement, stepping forward and pressing a hand to the small of Louis’ back as he pushes him towards James’ office. Louis laughs, patting Harry’s hand away. “You’re really escorting me to his fucking office, huh?”

Humming, Harry nods and ghosts his fingertips across the knobs of Louis’ spine, making him shiver. “I’m nothing if a gentlemen, sweetheart.”

“Now, that’s a lie.” Louis giggles as he pushes the door open with a small smile on his lips. As he pushes open the door, Louis is hyperaware of how close Harry is to him but he soon becomes much more aware of the fact that his husband is balls deep in a small blonde woman bent over his desk with her legs spread.

 “James, what the fuck?!”

Louis watches in disbelief, his heart beating fast in his chest as he watches James stumble over his own feet in pulling out of the young blonde bent over his desk and hastily pull his trousers up. He raises his hands to hold onto his hair as he watches his husband shoves the blonde out of his way, barely registering her cursing as she stumbles out the room with large rips in her tights.

“Baby, it’s not what it looks like…” James begins, his eyes widening suddenly and Louis frowns, turning around to see what James is looking at. He gasps, the sight of Harry coming towards James with a raised fist and a look of pure anger twisting his features.

Louis moves quickly, stepping in front of Harry and shoving him backwards with two hands on Harry’s chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?! You can’t fucking swing at him for fucking cheating on me when you’ve been balls deep in me for the past few months, Harry!” Louis snaps, only catching onto what he’s said when the words have fell out of his mouth.

“What the fuck did you just say.” James’ voice is cold and clipped, making Louis stiffen

“I…”

“You’ve been fucking him?!” James’ voice escalates to a shrill shout, his eyes wild with disbelief and anger as he darts annoyed looks between the pair in front of him.

Louis slowly turns around, ignoring the way Harry is looking at him with disbelief. “I… yes. I have.” He says quietly, tucking his hair behind his ear as he finally looks at his husband.

“You stupid little slut. You let this homewrecking asshole in between your legs, complained at me for not spending enough time with you at home when you’ve probably been /gagging/ for me to stay longer at work just so he could fuck you, huh?!”

“James. I literally just caught you shagging a woman on top of your desk. You don’t get to-“

“You fucked my homewrecker bastard of a work rival, Louis!”

“There’s gotta be a home to wreck in the first place, James.” Louis snaps.

“You know what? Fuck this. You can fucking have him, mate.”

Louis watches with bated breath as James shoves past Harry and slams the door behind him in his exit, the glass shaking in the doorframe with the effort. Louis steps back in surprise and blinks quickly as his body collides with Harry’s broad chest. They stand in silence for a couple of seconds, the sounds of the office outside continuing as normal.

“Is it cliché if I leave my husband’s office to go home with my new boyfriend after finding him balls deep in someone else?”

“Do you care about being a cliché?” Harry whispers, sliding an arm around Louis’ waist and pulling him into his side.

Louis shakes his head, tilting his head back to look up at his boyfriend’s face. “Absolutely not.”

“Let me take you home, then, baby.”

“Yes, star.”

 

//

 

 

 

Louis isn’t quite sure of what he did in a past life for his new boyfriend’s family to accept him so readily into their lives, especially considering the way in which he’d entered Harry’s life in the first place, but he couldn’t consider himself as anything but lucky.

Harry’s mother, Anne, is quite frankly the motherly figure that he never really had in life – soft, warm, and nurturing almost to a fault; meaning that Anne seems to enjoy cuddling with Louis on the sofa more than she enjoys anything else, not that he feels fit to complain. Harry must get his cuddling skills from somewhere.

Robin is Harry’s step father and treats him just like a son, playing footie with him in the backyard and discussing what a shambles the country is over a roast dinner that Anne and Harry have prepared. He also has the dirtiest sense of humour that Louis loves, that leaves Louis giggling and red faced whilst Anne smacks Robin on the shoulder for “corrupting my boy”.

And of course, Gemma. Thankfully, after their last meeting, they had seemed to agree to a truce that as long as Louis wasn’t a dickhead and continued to make Harry happy, then she would “at least tolerate” him. Translation: she loves him and makes sure that he feels at home, inviting him over for cocktails if Harry is knee deep in work on a Wednesday night.

They make him feel at home, like he’s part of a family again and Louis couldn’t be more grateful. Which is probably why he seems so calm at Gemma’s wedding after party just sat at a table with Anne and Robin, smiling widely at their playful married bickering. Harry is off socialising with some of his distant cousins and Louis is content enough to mill around with Harry’s immediate family, instead of being left to socialise with a bunch of people he didn’t know like at his own wedding a few years ago.

Louis’ eyes are cast out at the dance floor, smiling fondly to himself over the rim of his wine glass as he watches Gemma dance with one of her seven year old bridesmaids. Anne is playing with his hair as he leans into her side, humming happily under his breath at the contact. His attention is only properly divided when he catches sight of Harry stood at the other side of the table. His boyfriend beckons him forward with a ring-covered hand and Louis blushes, gently excusing himself from Anne and Robin’s company.

Louis picks up his wine glass and makes his way over to Harry before plopping himself down in the seat in front of Harry, smiling cheekily up at his boyfriend.

“Hi” he grins, downing the rest of his wine and setting the glass down on the table top.

Harry tugs at Louis’ hand and delivers a breathtaking, boyish grin that takes Louis back to the first time that their eyes met whilst simultaneously making a soft tug at his stomach make him long for an alternate universe where Louis has the chance to grow up with Harry as his best friend and witness that boyish grin on his beautiful features for many years. This is good too, though. Louis doesn’t think that he would change their situation, if he’s completely honest with himself.

Clearing his throat, Louis blinks up innocently up at his boyfriend – his boyfriend! – as his fingers drift away from the stem of the wine glass perched in front of him on the velvet red table.

“Can I help you, love?” Louis drawls slowly, his cheeks heating up slightly as he catches sight of Anne watching them fondly from across the table. Harry’s mother is impeccably dressed, a rose tucked behind her ear to contrast with the black suit combo she’s wearing as she leans into Robin’s side.

Harry rolls his eyes fondly, dropping down to one knee in front of Louis and Louis’ eyes widen.

“Get the fuck up off your knees, Harry Edward Styles!” Louis begs, fully aware of the fact that he can feel his voice growing higher and higher with frustration at the man in front of him. He can feel several pairs of eyes on them and he’s pretty sure that Anne has stopped breathing.

Harry smirks cheekily before he follows orders, standing to his full height and using his left hand to caress Louis’ burning cheek.

“Cute.”

Louis growls and shoves Harry’s hand away from his face, his face burning in embarrassment despite the fact that he can’t keep the huge grin from splitting his face in two.

“I fucking hate you, Styles,” he grumbles.

“Dance with me, or I’ll propose to you right now and that’ll take the spotlight away from Gemma on her big day, resulting in her hating you forever.”

Louis shakes his head in disbelief. “We’ve been officially dating for two weeks and you’re already pulling out the big guns, huh?” He stands up slowly, shooting a reassuring smile to Anne who has downed two glasses of wine ever since Harry rose up off his knees at Louis’ feet.

The couple walk out onto the crowded dance floor. Who knew Gemma and Ryan knew so many people? The space is packed, a mixture of silk ties and chiffon robes mixing together underneath the romantic lights as Gemma’s favourite indie playlist echoes over the speakers.

Harry’s arms easily encircle Louis’ waist and pulls him in closer so that there’s very minimal space left between their bodies as Louis’ arms wind around his boyfriend’s neck. Louis’ hands plant in Harry’s curls and pulls him down for a deep, reassuring kiss because it’s been approximately forty five minutes since their lips have touched.

They sway slowly along to the sweet beat of the music coming from the live band on stage, neither of them saying anything as Louis lays his head on Harry’s chest and closes his eyes. He doesn’t need to open them to know that Harry will take care of him or that the strobe lights will paint cascades of colours in his boyfriend’s eyes that will make him fall in love all over again. He just knows.

They dance slowly for a couple of songs before Harry presses his lips to the shell of Louis’ ear. “You were wrong before, by the way,” Harry murmurs.

Louis frowns, his mind working a bit slower than normal due to the alcohol humming in his veins and the feeling of Harry’s arms securely around him making his judgements come out slower than usual.

“Wrong?” he asks and Harry nods.

“I showed you the big guns much earlier in our… relationship, baby. You know that,” he says cheekily and Louis is suddenly grateful for the multi-coloured lights as they seem to mask the bright red flush coating his cheeks.

“You didn’t fucking propose to me in that hotel bar, Harry,” Louis rolls his eyes and gasps on a happy hum as Harry’s lips make contact with his bare neck.

Harry hums quietly, the sound rumbling against Louis’ throat, his teeth scratching along the length of Louis’ exposed neck before being swiftly followed by the heat of his tongue. “No,” he agrees. “I did make you come three times, though.”

Louis gasps, scandalised, and smacks Harry’s firm chest with his palm. He pouts to hide the unfair spike of arousal he feels course through his body just because Harry is firm and strong beneath his touch. Bastard.

He makes to twist out of Harry’s arms and makes it two steps away before Harry grins and pulls Louis back in with one hand firm on the small of Louis’ back and the other tightly holding onto Louis’ wrist. Louis giggles helplessly, his eyes lighting up in amusement and happiness as he easily melts his body against Harry’s.

Both of them go to open their mouths to say something before their attention is diverted over to the sound of Gemma giggling loudly as Ryan tries to hoist her up higher in his arms despite the obvious obstacle of her wedding dress. Louis watches them fondly, happy to see Gemma so happy and giggly even on such a stressful day.

Harry’s lips press to Louis’ jaw and the man sighs happily, leaning heavily into the touch.

 

“Could that be us one day?” Harry asks quietly. Louis turns his head and smiles patiently at the man in his arms.

“You already try to lift me in the air just to make me giggle, love,” he murmurs back, trying to ignore his heart beating fast in his chest because he knows that isn’t really what Harry meant.

“You know what I mean, Louis.”

Louis does.

“Harry, baby… star. I got divorced two weeks ago.” Louis stammers out, his cheeks burning bright under the soft glowing lights. Harry thinks Louis is the most beautiful light in his life.

Harry nods, licking his lips slowly and fighting back a grin when he notices Louis’ eyes tracking the movement. He plainly shrugs and pecks Louis’ temple with a short, sweet kiss. “All I know is, Mr. Tomlinson, I wanted to be your husband the second my eyes found you.”

Louis makes a soft sound at the back of his throat and stares helplessly up into Harry’s eyes, his breath catching in his throat as his hands tighten at the back of Harry’s head.

“I love you, Harry Styles,” Louis whispers before pressing their lips together and letting himself be swayed on the dance floor to the beat of their favourite song. He focuses on the warmth of Harry’s hands on his body and giggles happily when Harry litters soft kisses all over his face, all worry and anxiety melting away.

-

When Harry and Louis finally make their way home to Harry’s bed that night, they’re both on the right side of tipsy – giggly and handsy and stopping on the corner of every street whilst walking home together just to declare their undying love for one another.

Louis thinks he must’ve forgotten how good it was for someone to pay attention to him without there being an underlying current of boredom or necessity just to get him into bed, because when they collapse onto the bed fully clothed apart from their shoes and Harry does nothing but kiss him slowly and slide his hands underneath Louis’ crisp shirt to tickle Louis’ sides just to make him cry out with laughter, Louis loses his breath repeatedly because ‘shit this is my life I love my life I love my harry’.

The couple cuddle and kiss slowly under the low glow of the moonlight filtering in through the gap in the curtains. The reflected light make Harry’s eyes seem lighter and full of promise when Louis pulls back just to brush the stray curls off Harry’s forehead, their eyes meeting.

Louis wriggles up against Harry’s frame and nips playfully at Harry’s plump bottom lip. “You wanna fuck me like you mean it, baby?” he purrs softly, fluttering his eyelashes up at his boyfriend.

Harry groans slowly and presses a hard kiss to Louis’ mouth, making the smaller man giggle and moan against Harry’s mouth. His hips lift up off the mattress at the same time as his small hands pull firmly at Harry’s hips to bring their hips together, slowly grinding as Harry mouths at his neck.

They separate for a second, their eyes meeting and reflecting identical frenzied want in each other’s eyes before they both reach for each other at the same time. Louis’ hands grab and pull at Harry’s blazer, shoving it down Harry’s arms while Harry unbuckles Louis’ belt and drags Louis’ slacks down his thighs. Louis leans back to shuffle his slacks off his legs fully and goes back to unbutton Harry’s shirt quickly, planting a hot open mouthed kiss on each new square of bare skin that he finds with each popped button.

Louis can feel how heavily Harry is breathing, just looking down at Louis in awe as he throws his shirt away to the floor and cups Louis’ face in his hands as their lips meet in a desperate kiss. Louis’ nails scratch at Harry’s muscled back and gasps loudly as it emits a soft growl from Harry’s mouth.

“Haz, fuck,” Louis moans, and squeezes a handful of Harry’s cock through the material of his tight trousers. “Lemme see you, baby.”

Harry groans loudly and nods, already unbuckling his belt. “S-shirt, Lou,” he pants and he shoves his trousers and boxers down his legs, his cock springing free, the tip an angry red.

Smirking to himself, Louis lays back down and slowly unbuttons his shirt, pulling the material apart to brush his fingers over his chest and nipples. He feels an immense wave of power and arousal as Harry’s eyes zone in quickly on where Louis is teasing himself, his boyfriend’s mouth dropping open. Louis makes sure to unbutton the rest of the shirt and leave it gaping open before continuing to tease himself, soft gasped moans falling from his pretty pink mouth.

Harry is frozen for a second, his cock throbbing in between his legs before he finally moves and rips the shirt off Louis’ body, knocking Louis’ fingers away from his chest and replacing them with his mouth. Louis cries out, his cheeks flushing a bright red as Harry’s tongue swirls around his sensitive nub and making Louis try to arch off the bed. Harry quickly shoves Louis back down with two firm hands on his hips and fuck, that shouldn’t be so hot. But it leaves Louis squirming and aroused, nevertheless.

“H-Harry, no,” Louis slurs out heavily, his eyes rolling back into his head when Harry bites down on his sore nipple before pulling his mouth away.

“Wanna see you squirm on my fingers,” Harry says calmly, a sharp contrast to the state of his messy hair and dark, brooding eyes. Louis whimpers.

Harry grabs the lube from the side table and slowly lubes his fingers up, drizzling some lube over Louis’ exposed hole. Louis gasps and whimpers at the cold substance, losing his breath slightly.

“H-Harry,” he moans.

Soft lips press to Louis’, swallowing his moans down as long, thick fingers slowly press into Louis’ tight heat and make the boy arch up off the bed before he’s shoved back down again. Louis is a panting mess as he’s spread open by beautiful fingers that know Louis’ body better than he knows it himself and it doesn’t take long before Louis is moaning and squirming as he pushes his hips down to ride three fingers eagerly.

His lover gives him mercy and slowly pulls his fingers out of Louis’ heat, wiping his fingers on the bedsheets and reaching for the condom on the side table before Louis’ hand stills the movement, his small hand wrapping around Harry’s wrist.

“Fuck me bare” he murmurs finally as their eyes met, frenzied and wanting.

It’s almost comical how Harry’s mouth drops open and Louis would giggle at the sight of Harry’s dumbfounded expression if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t really focus on anything other than how badly he needs to be filled.

“W-what? Lou, you don’t have t-“

Louis’ mouth cuts Harry off and he pulls Harry up to lay on top of his body again, easily moulding their mouths together and wrapping his thighs tightly around Harry’s waist.

“Fuck me bare, baby,” he breathes out shakily against Harry’s mouth. “I wanna feel the man I love fill me up nice and good,” he pants, feeling so out of control yet ultimately in his element at the same time. It’s what Harry does to him.

The pair stare at each other for a few seconds before they reach for each other at the same time, their mouths and bodies colliding together, moulding perfectly. Louis is a hundred percent sure that their bodies were made for each other.

Harry grabs handfuls of Louis’ ass and lifts him up higher until Harry’s cock is rubbing over Louis’ exposed hole. Louis whimpers shakily at the loss of control, his breath catching in his throat.

A soft hand touches Louis’ cheek and he opens his eyes slowly, flushing prettily under Harry’s gentle gaze.

“Are you sure?” he pants and Louis nods, reaching in between their bodies to guide Harry’s cock to press firmly against his witness.

“I love you,” Louis says simply and that’s enough for Harry, his hips jerking forward and slowly pushing into Louis’ heat until he’s fully bottomed out and Louis is squirming happily down on the thick length.

Harry thrusts slowly at first, building up a smooth rhythm that leaves Louis breathless and scratching desperately at Harry’s back. He opens his mouths to beg for more just as Harry thrusts harder, his cock perfectly hitting Louis’ spot and making him cry out softly with each thrust.

It’s only when Louis is getting close and his nails are digging painfully into Harry’s shoulder blades that he realises Harry is speaking into his neck.

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking beautiful, make me luckiest man in the entire fucking world. I can’t wait to marry you and kiss you for the rest of our lives and have children with you and watch you fucking flourish as a writer and a father and we’re gonna be so fucking happy, baby. I love you so fucking much, fuck!”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly Louis comes to the thought of a committed life with his boyfriend but it’s also magical how easily wound he is for Harry and how in love they both are for each other. Harry and Louis cling tight to each other as they come, panting for breath as they both come down from their mutual orgasms.

It’s quiet and calm, the moonlight painting shadows on Harry’s back muscles as he moves to clean Louis up and roll onto his back with an awed smile painted across his pink, pouty lips. Louis loves him. Louis shifts closer and wraps a thigh over Harry’s hip and lays his head down on Harry’s chest while Harry covers them both up with the duvet.

“You really want all of that with me?” He finally whispers in the darkness, his hand tracing patterns over Harry’s star tattoo.

Harry nods, smiling shyly. “Every bit.”

“For the rest of your life?” Louis asks quietly, beaming brightly when Harry nods again.

“Me too,” he finally whispers into Harry’s chest.

Yes. Louis could definitely do this for the rest of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
